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f  EDEMTE  FIRST  READER:! 


COXTAINIXG  SELECTIONS  IN 


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xcL'lE   .:  ,   ^^OETR\.,  i 


:adixu  exeucises  for  the  youkg  children  in/^ 

THE  SCHOOLS  AND  FAMILIES  OF  THE  vjx 


CONFEDEKATE  STATES. 


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rUBLlSI.KD  LV    ui.,;;.:. 
No.  161,  Ma's-  S- 


■S^^fi:^-6^^S}?^-^=^ 


11£. 

THE  ETHEL  CARR   PEACOCK 

MEMORIAL  COLLECTION 
Afatris  amort  monumentum 


TKINITY  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

DURHAM,   N.  C. 
1903 


Gift  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Dred  Peacock 


1. 


r  .^  V 


THE 


COiXFEDERATE  FIRST  READER : 


OONTAINIVO 


SELECTIONS  IN  PROSE  AND  POETRY. 


AS    READING   EXERCISES 


FOR  THE  YOUNGER  CHILDREN 


IN    THR 


SCHOOLS  AND  FAMILIES 


OF  THE  CONFEDERATE  STATES. 


r4 


I    ^  RICHMOND,  Va. 

PUBLISHED  BY  G.  L.  BIDGOOD, 
1^  No.  121,  Main  StrMt. 

1864. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress  of  the  Confederate 
States  in  the  year  in  1864. 


iLTRBS    A    WADE,    PRINTERS.  i-^      [/% 


? 


PREFACE. 


This  book  has  been  compiled  and  prepared  for  the  use  of 
children  who  may  have  mastered  the  reading  lessons  of  the 
spelHng-book.  It  is  more  particularly  designed  as  an  imme- 
diate successor,  in  this  respect,  to  the  ''Confederate  Spelling 
Book/'  which  has  been  so  extensively  adopted  in  the  schools 
of  the  Confederate  States. 

The  pieces  have  been  selected  with  a  view  to  interest  and 
instruct  the  pupils,  and  at  the  same  time  to  elevate  their  ideas, 
form  correct  tastes,  and  instil  proper  sentiments.  Whatever 
seems  most  desirable  for  these  purposes,  among  the  literary 
materials  that  have  become  public  property,  has  been  freely 
appropriated ;  suitable  articles  neither  being  rejected  because 
familiar  to  adults,  nor  novelty  sought  for  its  own  sake.  At 
the  same  time,  the  selections  have,  by  no  means,  been  con- 
fined to  the  hackneyed  list.  It  is  believed  that  the  exercises 
thus  chosen,  are  well  adapted  to  the  capacity  of  those  for 
whom  they  arc  designed,  and  will  afford  them  much  more  real 
pleasure,  as  well  as  improvement,  than  the- frivolous  sentences 
which  some  suppose  to  be  the  best  entertainment  for  juveniles. 


•    XH^M 


TO    TEACHERS. 


This  book  is  not  designed  to  supersede  the  spelling-book, 
or  suspend  its  use.  Its  leading  purpose  is  to  furnish  suitable 
readiny  lessons  for  young  pupils.  It  is  not  believed  to  be  ex- 
pedient to  divide  the  learner's  attention  with  other  exercises, 
which  are  better  pursued  separately  and  in  other  books. 
^'One  thing  at  a  time"  is  sound  wisdom  in  study  as  in  other 
employments. 

The  first  thing  to  be  carefully  insisted  on,  in  the  young 
reader,  is  a  clear,  distinct  articulation.  This  is  indispensable 
to  good  reading.  The  habit  of  indistinct  pronunciation  is 
usually  contracted  in  the  early  lessons  of  the  pupil,  and  is 
ever  afterwards  difficult  to  overcome.  It  results  from  igno- 
rance of  words,  or  from  a  drawling,  indolent  tone,  or  from  a 
haste  which  mutilates  the  words  or  runs  them  into  each  other. 

A  monotonous  style  of  reading  is  another  errror  into  which 
the  young  reader  is  very  liable  to  fi\ll,  unless  closely  watched. 
To  avoid  this,  the  lesson  must  be  so  carafully  prepared  that 
each  word  can  be  readily  called  at  sight.  There  can  be  no 
good  reading,  and  no  improvement,  where  the  learner  must 
spell  his  way.  Besides  being  familiar  with  the  words  of  the 
lesson,  the  pupil  musti  also  understand  its  import,  and  catch 
its  spirit.  These  will  go  far  to  ensure  an  easy  utterance  and 
natural  tone,  and  the  proper  inflection  and  emphasis. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  a  school-reader  is  not  a 
mere  story-book,  to  be  hurried  through,  as  such,  and  then 
flung  aside  for  another.  ]3ut  the  lessons  are  to  be  re-read  and 
dwelt  upon  until  familiarity  and  practice,  aided  by  the  in- 
structions of  the  teacher,  shall  enable  the  young  learner  to 
give  them  a  correct  rendering. 

It  is  recommended  that  the  lesson  be  of  such  length  as  will 
permit  each  pupil  to  read  the  whole  of  it,  or  at  least  a  large 
part  of  it,  when  the  class  is  called  to  recite.  This  repetition 
will  create  a  wholesome  emulation  among  the  pupils,  and  cause 
all  to  profit  by  the  instructions  given  to  each.  The  teacrier 
should  begin  the  recitation  by  reading  the  lesson  to  the  pupils, 
calling  their  attwition  to  particular  points  when  necessary. 


/>>:•  . 


CONTENTS. 


PIECES  IN  PROSE. 

The  Bad  and  Good  Readers,    . 

The  Honest  Indian, 

The  Young  Mouse — A  Fable,  . . 

The  Eagle  and  the  Crow— ^1  Fable, 

The  Sparrow  and  the  Hare — A  Fable, 

Creation  of  the  World — Bible, 

On  Behavior, 

Cruelty  Punished, 

Anecdotes  of  Parrots,   . 

Learn  to  Swim, 

The  Eagle  and  the  Cat — ^i  Fable, 

The  Birth  of  Jesus — JJible, 

Filial  Love  Rewarded, 

Musical  Mice,     .... 

Monkeys  and  their  Tricks, 

The  Lion  ani  the  Mouse — ^-1  Fable, 

The  Faithful  Dog,  ■         . 

The  Indian  and  His  Dog, 

The  Good-Natured  Dog, 

The  Lark  and  Her  Young  Ones — -1  Fable, 

The  Ferocious  Dog, 

Show  and  Use — The  Two  Colts — Evenings  at  Home, 

How  to  Tell  Bad  News — A  Dialogue,   . 

The  Earth  and  Its  Inhabitants, 

Heaven — Mrs.  Barbauld, 

The  Seasons — Mrs.  Barbauld,   , 

The  Creator  Greater  than  His  Works — Mrs.  Barbauld, 

The  Ten  CommandnieDtd — Bible, 


PAGB 

9 
11 
12 
13 
14 
15 
16 
17 
18 
20 
21 
23 
23 
25 
26 
28 
29 
30 
32 
32 
35 
36 
38 
39 
41 
42 
43 
45 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


AH  for  the  Best, 

The  Good  Boy, 

Th«  Good  Girl, 

Description  of  Heaven — Bible, 

The  Good  Samaritan — Bible,    . 

Crucifixion  of  Christ — Bible,     . 

The  Wise  Bird  and  the  Foolish  Ones — A  Fable, 

The  Boasting  Girl  and  the  Conceited  Pigeon, 

The  Echo, 

Against  Persecution — Franklin , 

The  Prodigal  Son — Bible, 

How  to  Make  the  Best  of  It — Eveiiings  at  Home, 

The  Discontented  Mole — ^4  Fable, 

The  French  Youth , 

The  Day  of  Judgment— ^^'J^e, 

The  Whistle — Franklin, 

Industry  Rewarded — Berguin, 

Mungo  Park's  Travels  in  Africa, 

The  Wonderful  Chip,     . 

A  Pleasant  Surprise — From-  the  German, 

The  Lion, 

The  Chinese  Prisoner^-i'erctya/, 

Heroism  of  a  Peasant, 

The  Resurrection  and  Ascension  of  Christ — Bible, 

Ninetieth  Psalm — Bible, 

Abraham's  Plea  in  Behalf  of  Sodom — Bible, 

Judah's  Supplication  to  Joseph  for  the  Liberation  of  Ben 

jamin — Bible,  ..... 

Joseph  makes  Himself  known  to  his  Brethren — Bible, 
The  Tutor  and  his  Pupils,  or  Use  Your  Eyea — Aikin, 
Little  John  and  his  Bowl  of  Milk, 
The  Little  Violet—^  Fable,      .... 
A  Friend  in  Need — Eoenings  at  Homa, 
Christian  and  Hopeful  conducted  into  Heaven  by  the  An 

gels — PilgrivCs  Froyress,     .  .  ,  , 


118 


CONTENTS. 


ni 


PIECES  IN  POETRY. 


The  Little  Fish— ^  Fahle, 

God  Sees  Me, 

The  Robin, 

The  Squirrel, 

The  Bible, 

Uses  of  Arithmetic, 

Similes —  Unknown,         ,  , 

Trust  in  Providence, 

The  Way  to  be  Happj — Janf'  Taylor, 

Early  Piety—  Waifs, 

Employment, 

To  the  Lady-Bird — Mrs.  Southey, 

Old  Cato, 

Kind  Words, 

The  Ant  Hill,     . 

God  Seen  in  All  Things — Moore., 

Contented  John— Jiawe  Taylor, 

Gratitude, 

The  Christian  Race — Doddridge, 

The  Old  Horse, 

Heavenly  Pest — Anonymous, 

The  Rose — Cowper, 

Elejy  on  Madam  Blaize — Cowper, 

The  Dangers  of  Life — 3Irs.  Barbanld, 

The  Ant  and  the  Glovr-Worm — A  Fable — Anonymous 

The  Hare  and  the  Tortoise — A  Fable, 

The  Little  Lord  and  the  Farmer's  Boy, 

The  Better  Land — 3Irs.  Remans, 

The  Eyes  and  the  Nose — Cowper ^  .  , 

The  Battle  of  Blenheim — Southey,         .  , 

The  Doomed  Man — JJr.  Alexander,        .  , 

My  Life  is  like  the  Summer  Rose — Wilde, 

The  Fall  of  the  Leaf,     .... 

The  Spider  and  the  Fly — A  Fable — Mary  Howitt, 

The  Cuckoo — Logan,     .... 

Signs  of  Rain — Jenner, 

Th«  Meeting  of  th»  Wattri — Moore, 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


Not  Ashamed  of  Jesus — Grigg, 

Destruction  of  Sennacherib — Byron^ 

Turn  the  Carpet— ^awwa/t  More, 

The  Sluggard —  Watta, 

What  is  that,  Mother  l—Doane, 

Casabianca — Mrs.  Hemam, 

All  Nature  attests  the  Creator, 

The  Blind  Boy  and  his  Sister, 

The  Dying  Christian  to  his  ^oxxl—Pope, 


PAGE 
93 

94 
dQ 
101 
106 
109 
113 
116 
120 


J 


THE 


CONFEDERATE  FIRST  HEADER. 


The  Bad  au'J   Good  Readers. 

King  Fiederiek  wfjs  ouo  day  .sitting  in  his  palace,  when  a 
petition  was  placed  in  bis  bauds.  The  King's  eyes  being  dim, 
he  called  upon  one  of  bis  pages  to  read  it  to  bim. 

The  boy  was  the  son  of  a  nobleman,  but  be  w-as  a  poor 
reader.  He  pronounced  bis  words  badly,  and  hurried  rapidly 
over  them,  in  a  dismal,  sing-song  tone.  "  Stop,"  said  the  King; 
"  I  cannot  understand  what  you  are  reading.  •  Send  me  some 
one  else.'' 

Another  page   now  came  forward  ]  but  be  coughed,  and 
hemmed,  and  cleared  his  throat,  and  uttered  his  words  with, 
a  great  swelling  sound,  and  drawled  them  out  so  slowly,  that 
the  King  took  the  paper  from  bim^  and  told  bim  to  go  out  o^ 
the  room. 

A  little  girl,  whom  ibe  King  saw  helping  ber  fa'tber  to 
weed  the  flower-beds,  v/as  next  called  for,  to  see  if  she  could 
lead  the  petition.  She  first  olanced  ber  eyes  over  it,  and 
then  read  it  aloud. 

It  was  from  a  poor  widow,  whose  busband  bad  been  killed 
in  battle,  and  whose  only  son  was  now  sent  for,  to  serve  in  the 
army.  As  the  sou's  health  was  very  delicate,  she  begged  the 
King  to  let  bim  stay  at  home,  and  follow  bis  business  as  a 
portrait- painter. 

The  little  girl  read  the  petition  witb  such  distinct  pronun- 
ciation, and  such  natural  tones,  and  witb  so  much  grace  and 
feeling,  that  tears  were  standing  in  the  King's  eyes  when  she 
concluded.     '<  Oh,  now  I  know  what  it  is  about!"  gaid  he; 
2 


lO  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

*^  but  I  never  would  have  knon-u,  if  the  young  men  had  read 
it  to  me.'' 

The  Kinjx  then  sent  the  little  girl  to  tell  the  mother  that 
her  request  was  granted.  He  also  employed  the  young  man 
to  paint  his  own  portrait.  The  King  likewise  made  the  little 
girl's  father,  his  chicf-gurdener;  and  as  for  her,  lie  caused  her 
to  be  well  educated  at  his  own  ex])ense.  Tlj^  two  pages  he 
dismissed  from  his  service  for  a  year,  and  told  them  to  employ 
the  time  in  learning  to  read. 

Let  all  the  children  who  may  read  the  lessons  in  this  book, 
study  them  well,  and  try  to  read  like  the  little  girl,  and  not 
like  the  two  pages. 


The  Little  Fish. —A  Fahh. 

*'  Dear  mother,"  said  a  little  fish, 

"  Pray,  is  not  that  a  fly  ? 
I'm  very  hungry,  and  I  wish, 

You'd  lot  me  go  and  try." 
"  Sweet  innocent,"  the  mother  cried, 

And  started  from  her  nook, 
*'  That  seeming  fly  is  made  to  hide 

The  sharpness  of  the  hook." 

Now,  I  have  heard  this  little  trout 

Was  young  and  fo)lish  too; 
And  so  he  thought  he'd  venture  out, 

To  see  if  it  were  true. 
And  round  about  the  bait  lie  played, 

AVith  many  a  longing  look; 
And,  "  dear  me,"  to  himself  he  said, 

"I'm  sure  that's  not  a  hook." 

"  T  can  but  give  one  little  bite," 

Said  he,  ''  and  so  I  will." 
So  on  he  went,  when  lo  !  it  quite 

Stuck  through  his  little  gill. 
And  as  he  faint,  and  fainter,  grew, 

With  hollow  voice  he  cried, 
*'  Dear  mother,  had  I  minded  you, 

I  should  not  now  have  died." 


tllE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  U 

The  Ilonesi  LnJiaii. 

An  Indian  once  met  one  of  his  wliite  friends,  who  lived  in  a 
village  not  fur  from  the  Indian's  wigwam,  and  asked  him  for 
a  little  tobacco  to  smoke  in  his  pipe.  The  white  man  took  a 
handful  of  loose  tobacco  out  of  his  pocket,  and  gave  it  to  him. 

The  next  day  the  Indian  came  to  the  village,  and  en([uired 
for  the  gentleman. who  had  given  him  the  tobacco.  He  said 
he  had  found  a  piece  of  money  in  the  tobacco,  and  he  wished 
to  restore  it  to  the  owner. 

The  person  to  whom  he  addressed  himself,  told  him  the 
money  was  his,  for  it  had  been  given  to  him;  and  that  he 
ought  to  keep  it,  and  not  say  any  thing  about  it.  But  this 
advice  did  not  please  the  honest  Indian. 

He  pointed  to  his  breast  and  said  :  "  I  got  a  good  man,  and 
a  bad  man  in  here.  The  good'man  say,  '  ^J'his  money  is  not 
yours  ;  you  must  return  it  to  the  owner.'  The  bad  man  say, 
'  It  Ks  yours  ;  for  he  gave  it  to  you.'  The  good  man  say, 
'That  is  not  right;  he  gave  you  the  tobacco,  but  not  the 
money.'  The  bad  man  say,  '  Never  mind,  you  got  it ;  go  buy 
some  dram.'  The  irood  man  say,  '  No,  no,  you  must  not  do 
so.'  " 

"  So  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  <aud  I  try  to  go  to  sleep;  but 
the'good  man  and  the  bad  man  kept  talking  all  night,  and 
trouble  me ;  and  now  I  bring  the  money  back  I  feel  good.'' 


God  Sees  Me. 

God  can  see  mc  every  day ; 
When  I  work  and  when  I  play, 
When  I  read  and  when  I  talk, 
When  I  run  and  when  I  walk. 
When  I  eat  and  when  I  drink, 
When  I  sit  and  when  I  think, 
When  I  laugh  and  when  I  cry, 
God  is  ever  watching  nigh. 

When  I'm  quiet,  when  I'm  rude, 
When  I'm  naughty,  when  I'm  good, 
When  I'm  happy,  when  I'm  sad. 
When  I'm  sorry,  when  I'm  giad, 


i 


12  THE  CONFEDEllATK  FIRST  READEK. 

When  I  pluck  the  sccutcd  rose, 
That  iu  the  pretty  pirden  grows, 
When  I  crush  the  little;  fly, 
God  is  watching  from  the  sky. 

When  the  sun  gives  heat  and  light, 
When   the  stars  are  twinkliuj^  bright, 
^Vlicn  the  moon  shines  on  my  bod, 
God  still  watches  o'er  my  head. 
Night  or  day,  at  church  or  fair,    "* 
God  is  ever,  ever  near, 
IMarking  all  I  do  or  say, 
Pteady  for  the  judgment  Jay. 


The  Young  Mouse. —  A  F<thli\ 

A  young  mouse  once  lived  in  a  house-keeper's  pantry,  and 
had  a  nice  time  there..  Every  day  she  dined  on  bi;?cuit,  or 
cold  ham,  or  sugar;  and  often  she  got  a  taste  of  the  sweet- 
meats. Sometimes  she  would  [leep  into  the  diniug-room; 
but  when  the  cat  was  there,  she  would  hasten  back  to  her 
Ijole,  dreadfully  frightened. 

One  day,  the  young  mouse  came  running  to  her  mother  in 
great  joy.  "  Mother,"  said  she,  "  the  good  people  of  the  family 
have  built  me  a  house  to  live  in,  and  they  have  placed  it  in 
the  pantry.  I  am  sure  it  is  for  me,  for  it  is  just  big  enough. 
The  bottom  is  of  wood,  and  it  is  covered  all  over  with  wires. 
I  suppose  they  put  the  wires  there  to  screen  me  from  that 
ugly  cat. 

*'And,  mother,  there  is  a  little  door,  just  big  enough  for 
me  to  go  in.  And  they  have  put  some  nice  cheese  inside,  just 
for  me ;  and  it  smells  so  nice,  that  I  could  scarcely  keep  from 
going  in,  and  taking  possession.  J5ut,  mother,  1  thought  I 
would  run  and  tell  3'^ou,  so  that  we  might  go  in  toother,  and 
stay  there  to-night;  for  it  is  big  enough  to  hold  us  both." 

"My  dear  child,"  said  the  mouse,  "  it  is  happy  for  you  that 
you  did  not  enter.  This  house,  as  you  call  it,  is  a  trap,  put 
there  to  catch  you  ;  and  if  you  had  entered  it,  you  would  never 
have  come  out  again,  except  to  be  fed  to  the  cat,  or  killed  in 
some  other  way.  Let  this  teach  you  never  to  trust  to  appear- 
ances, and  always  to  ask  the  advice  of  older  persons." 


r*-  '^ 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  "      ^3 

The  Uohin. 

Away,  pretty  robin,  fly  home  to  your  nest ; 

To  make  you  my  captive,  I  sti-il  should  like  best, 

And  feed  you  with  worms  and  with  bread. 
Your  eyes  are  so  sparkling,  your  leathers  so  soft, 
Your  little  wings  flutter  so  pretty  aloft. 

And  your  breast  is  all  colored  with  red. 

But  then  'twould  be  eruel  to  keep  you,  I  know ; 
So  stretch  out  your  wings,  little  robin,  and  go; 

Fly  home  to  your  young  ones  again. 
Go  lii^ten  again  to  the  notes  of  your  mate, 
And  enjoy  the  green  shade  in  your  lonely  retreat, 

Secure  from  the  wind  and  the  rain. 

But  when  the  leaves  fall,  and  the  winter  winds  blow, 
And  the  green  fields  are  covered  all  over  v/ ith  snow, 

And  the  clouds  in  white  feathers  descend  ; 
When  the  springs  are  all  ice,  and  the  rivulets  freeze, 
And  the  long,  shining  icicles  drop  from  the  trees, 

Then,  robin,  remember  your  friend  ! 

When  with  cold  and  with  hunger,  f(uite  perished  and  weak, 
Come  tap  at  my  window  again  with  your  beak. 

Ami  gladly  I'll  let  you  come  in. 
You  shall  fly  to  my  bosom  or  perch  on  ray  thumbs. 
Or  hop  round  the  table  and  pidc  up  the  crumbs, 

And  never  be  hungry  again. 


The  Eatjle  auil  (lu:  Croo:. — A   Fable. 

A  hungry  eagle  gazed  down  upon  a  flock  of  sheep,  and  se- 
lecting a  nice  lamb,  swooped  upon   him,  and  bore  him  away 
bleating,  to  the  forest,  before  the  shepherd  could  do  any  thing 
to  prevent  it. 

A  crow  that  was  sitting  in  a  tree,  near  by,  saw  what  had 
pa.ssed,  and  was  filled  with  admiration  at  the  action  of  the 
eagle.  Ho  resolved  that  he  would  be  a  grand  bird,  too,  and 
pounce  down  upon  the  flock,  as  the  eagle  had  done. 

The  crow  accordingly  selected  the  old  bcH-wethcr  of  the 


14:  TnK  CONTEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

flock,  and  darted  upon  him,  fastened  his  claws  in  his  wool,  and 
attempted  to  fly  away  witli  him.  lie  might  as  well  have  tried 
to  fly  away  with  the  .State  Iljouse. 

The  shoph-'rd  was  much  amused  at  the  silly  crow,  for  he 
knew  he  could  do  no  harm.  lie  now  went  and  caught  him  as 
he  was  entangled  in  the  w<iol  of  the  sheep;  and  he  clipped 
his  winprs,  and  gave  him  to  his  children  fur  th«'ir  amuscmcut. 

This  fahle  teaches  us  not  to  attempt  what  is  beyond  our 
capacity. 


TIi€   Sparrow  iiit<l  the  Hare. — .1    Fnhlr.    , 

A  hare,  on  heing  seized  by  an  eagle,  raised  the  most  pite- 
ous cries;  for  ho  knew  that  the  engle  would  soon  tear  him  to 
pieces,  and  devour  him. 

A  F]tarrow  that  was  sitling  upon  a  tree  close  by,  and  saw 
what  had  h:.j»pened,  began  to  make  sport  of  the  poor  hare, 
and  to  laugh  at  his  distress.  '<  Why,"  said  she,  ''do  you  sit 
there  and  be  killed,  my  fine  fellow  ?  I'p  and  away,  1  tell 
you  !  I  am  sure  if  you  would  try,  so  swift  a  creature  as  you 
are,  could  easily  escape  from  an  eagle." 

As  the  sparrow  was  proceeding  with  this  cruel  raillery, 
there  came  a  hawk  and  pounced  down  upon  her,  and  com- 
menced immediately  to  pick  her  feathers  off,  so  that  he  might 
cat  her. 

The  sparrow,  tuo,  now  began  to  cry  for  merc-y;  but  the 
hawk  paid  no  attention  to  her;  and  the  hare,  which  wjis  just 
expiring,  called  to  the  sparrow  and  said,  "Just  now,  you  in- 
sulted me  in  my  misfortune,  and  thought  your-^elf  very  secure. 
Please  show  us  how  well  you  can  bear  the  like;  now  that 
ealamity  has  overtaken  you  aNo." 

This  fable  teaches  us  to  sympathi/e  wilh  the  unfortunate, 
and  never  to  make  sport  of  their  distresses. 


TliC   Squirrel. 

The  squirrel  is  happy,  the  sijuirrel  is  gay, 
]jittle  Henry  exclaimed  to  his  brother. 

He  has  nothing  to  do,  or  to  think  of,  but  play, 
And  to  jumj)  from  one  bough  to  another. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.        *  15 

But  William  was  older  and  wiser,  and  knew 
That  all  play,  and  no  work,  would  not  answer; 

So  he  asked  what  the  squirrel,  in  winter,  would  do, 
If  he  spent  all  the  summer  a  dancer. 

The  squirrel,  dear  Henry,  is  merry  and  wise, 
For  true  wisdom  and  mirth  go  together. 

He  lays  up,  in  summer,  his  winter  supplies, 
And  then  he  don't  mind  the  cold  weather. 


Creation  of  the    World. 

In  the  beginning,  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth. 

And  the  earth  was  without  form,  and  void;  and  darkness 
was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep  :  and  the  spirit  of  Grod  moved 
upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 

And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light :  and  there  was  light. 

And  God  saw  the  light  that  it  was  good  :  and  God  divided 
the  light  from  the  darkness. 

And  God  called  the  light  day,  and  the  darkness  be  called 
night. 

And  God  made  two  great  lights ;  the  greater  light  to  rule 
the  day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night.  He  made  the 
stars  also. 

And  God  created  great  whales,  and  every  living  creature 
tliat  moveth,  which  the  waters  brought  forth  abundantly  after 
their  kind,  and  every  winged  fowl  after  his  kind. 

And  God  made  the  beasts  of  the  earth  after  his  kind,  and 
rattle  alter  their  kina,  find  every  thing  that  creepeth  upon 
the  earth,  after  his  kind. 

And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  out  of  the  dust  of  the 
ground,  and  ])rcathcd  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life;  and 
man  became  a  living  soul. 

And  the  Lord  God  planted  a  garden  eastward  in  Eden ; 
and  there  he  put  the  man  whom  he  had  formed. 

And  out  of  the  ground,  made  the  J^ord  (Jod  to  grow  every 
tree  that  is  pkasant  to  the  sight,  and  good  for  food ;  the  tree 
of  life  also  in  tlic  midst  of  the  garden,  and  the  tree  of  knowl- 
edge of  good  and  evil. 


Ig  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

• 

And  out  of  the  ground,  the  Lord  God  formed  every  beaSt 
of  the  field,  and  every  fowl  of  the  air. 

And  Adam  gave  names  to  all  cattle,  and  to  the  fowl  of  the 
air,  and  to  ever}'-  beast  of  the  field. 

And  the  Lord  God  caused  a  deep  sleep  to  fall  upon  Adam^ 
and  he  slept ;  and  he  took  one  of  his  ribs,  and  closed  up  the 
flesh  instead  thereof. 

And  the  rib,  which  the  Lord  God  had  taken  from  man, 
made  he  a  woman,  and  brought  her  unto  the  man 

And  Adam  said,  This  is  now  bone  of  my  boncs^  and  flesh 
of  my  flesh.  .She  shall  be  called  w^oman^  because  tihc  wa? 
taken  out  of  man. 


O/i  Behavior. 

Do  not  stare  at  any  one;  for  to  do  £>o,  is  a  mark  of  rudeness 
and  impudence. 

Do  not  be  forward  to  speak,  when  strangers  or  older  persons 
are  present. 

Do  not  interrupt  a  person  while  he  is  speaking ;  but  listen 
with  attention  and  politeness,  until  he  has  finished. 

Never  whisper  in  company  while  others  are  conversing;  for 
it  is  very  rude  and  impolite  to  do  so. 

Be  always  respectful  and  obedient,  to  your  parents  and 
teachers,  and  to  ail  who  have  the  care  of  you. 

Be  aff'ftctionate  to  your  friends,  and  kind  and  obliging  to 
every  body. 

Never  lose  your  temper  with  your  playmates,  or  use  rough 
words  to  thcni. 

Do  not  rudely  contradict  any  one;  or  use  such  angry  ex- 
pressions as  I  I'yill,  or  I  wortf,  or  you  slihn't. 

Always  be  very  respectful  to  aged  people,  and  to  ladies ; 
and  render  them  attentions  whenever  there  is  opportunity. 

Do  not  make  sport  of  the  lame,  or  the  afflicted;  but  rather 
feel  sorry  for  them,  and  show  them  kindness. 

Do  not  be  harsh,  without  cause,  to  servants,  or  those  6ver 
wh  )m  you  have  authority.  It  is  wrong  to  impose  upon  the 
helpless. 

Remember  that  to  be  a  gentleman,  a  person  must  have  a 
kind  heart;  and  be  of  gentle  behavior;  and  polite  manners.    . 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER,  17 

The  Bible. 

Holy  Bible,  book  divine, 
Precious  treasure,  thou  art  mine  ! 
MiDe  to  tell  me  whence  T  came, 
Mine  to  teach  me  what  I  am; 

Mine  to  chide  mo  when  I  rove, 
Mine  to  show  a  Saviour's  loye; 
Mine  art  thou  to  guide  my  youth, 
In  the  paths  of  love  and  truth; 

IMine  to  comfort  in  distress,  ^ 

If  the  Holy  Spirit  bless; 
Mine  to  show  by  living  faith, 
Man  can  triumph  over  death. 


Ceuelty  Punished. 

■  A  chiir.ney-sweep  was  sitting  on  the  steps  of  a  house  in 
London,  eating  a  loaf  of  bread,  which  somebody  had  given 
him.  '  A  little  dog  stood  near  him,  looking. very  wishfully  at 
the  bread,  and  bee:ging  for  a  piece,  by  all  the  signs  which 
nature  has  taught  dogs  to  make. 

The  boy  took  a  delight  in  teasing  the  dog.  lie  would  hold 
out  a  piece  of  bread  to  him,  and  just  as  the  animal  was  about 
to  take  hold  of  it,  he  would  jerk  it  back. 

At  last  the  dog  was  too  quick  for  the  boy,  and  seized  the 
bread  before  he  could  withdraw  it.  The  cruel  boy,  thereupon, 
gave  the  dog  a  kick  under  the  mouth,  tHat  sent  him  away 
yelping  with  pain. 

A  gentleman  on  the  other  side  of  the  street  had  witnessed 
th§  conduct  of  the  boy,  and  though't  he  would  give  hiui  a  les- 
son that  would  make  him  reflect  upon  his  cruelty,  and  teack 
him  to  do  better  in  future.  So  he  held  out  a  piece  of  money, 
and  beckoned  to  the  boy  to  come  over  and  get  it. 

The  boy  ran  across  the  street,  and  eagerly  held  out  his  h:iud 

to  take  hold  of  the  mopey.     But  the  gentleman,  instead  of 

letting  him  take  it,  gave  him  a  severe  rap  over  the  knuckles 

with  his  cane,  whiuh  made  brim  roar  with  pain. 

«^*  - 


18  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

• 
"What  did  you  do  that  for?"  cried  the  boy.    "Did  you  not 
offer  me  the  money?" 

"What  did  you  hurt  the  dog  for?"  replied  the  gentlemfln. 
"Did  you  not  offer  hiin  tlie  bread  ?  I  have  done  this  to  show 
you  how  badly  you  treated  the  poor  dog,  and  to  put  you  in 
mind,  never  to  act  in  such  a  manner  again.  For  you  must  re- 
member that  dumb  animals  can  feel  as  well  as  boys." 


Uses  of  Arithmetic. 

John  wants  to  know,  what  three  times,  three, 
Added  to  live  times  two,  may  be. 
Long  has  he  puzzled  o'er  the  sum, 
ISqx  finds  to  what  amount  they  come : 
Yet  he  is  old  enough  to  know 
Much  more,  and  I  must  tell  him  so. 
Let  us  ask  Charles,  for  he  can  count, 
And  soon  will  tell  us  the  amount. 

Well,  three  times  three  are  nine,  he  says; 
And  five  times  two_,  are  ten,  always. 
When  ten  and  nine  are  thus  combined, 
Nineteeu's  the  number  we  shall  find. 
We  ought  to  add  up  quick  and  well, 
That  what  we  spend,  our  books  may  tell, 
And  make  us  saving,  to  this  end, 
That  we  may  give,  as  well  as  spend. 


Anecdofe.^  of  Parrot.^. 

!E^arrots  may  be  taught  to  utter  a  great  many  words  and  sen- 
tences; and  they  often  use  them  so  appropriately,  that  they 
almost  seem  to  be  gifted  with  reason. 

A  gentleman  once  had  a  ^larrot  that,  every  tnorning,  would 
say  to  the  servant,  "Sally,  Poll  wants  her  breakfast;"  and  in 
the  evening  would  say,  "Sally,  Poll  wants  her  tea;"  without 
ever  making  a  mistake.  "W'henfcvej"  she  saw  her  master  com- 
ing, she  would  feiiy,  "How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Andersdn  ?/*' 

This  parrot  would  whistle  up  tte  dogs,  and  drop  bread  out 


THE  CON-FEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  19 

of  her  cage  to  them ;  but  when  the  dogs  rushed  up  to  get  it, 
she  would  scream  at  them,  "Get  out,  dogs  !"  and  make  them 
run  awa.j.  She  would  then  huigh  at  them,  and  seem  to  be 
highly  delighted  at  the  trick  she  had  played  them. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  a  parrot  that  belonged  to  a  king. 
One  day  a  hawk  caught  her,  and  was  bearing  her  away,  when 
the  parrot  cried  out,  "Poll  is  a-riding  I"  This  frightened  the 
hawk,  and  he  dropped  the  parrot.  Unfortunately  they  were 
just  over  a  river,  so  that  the  parrot  fell  into  the  water  and  was 
in  danger  of  drowning.  '' 

As  soon  as  the  parrot  found  herself  in  the  river,  she  cried 
out,  "  Twent}^  pounds  for  a  boat  I"  A  boatman,  who  was  near 
by,  rescued  her.  and,  carrying  her  to  the  king,  demanded  the 
promised  reward.  The  king  told  him  he  asked  too  much  ; 
but  as  the  boatman  insisted  that  the  parrot  had  offered  it,  the 
king  said  he  would  leave  it  to  the  parrot  to  say  liow  much  he 
should  pay  him.  As  soon  %  he  had  said  this^  the  parrot 
spoke  up  and  said,  "  Give  the  knave  a  groat  I" 


Simi/efi 


As  proud  as  a  p'" acock — as  round  as  a  pea; 
As  blithe  as  a  lark — as  brisk  as  a  bee. 
As  light  as  a  feather — as  sure  as  a  gun  ; 
As  green  as  the  grass — as  brown  as  a  bun. 

As  ricti  as  a  Jew — as  warm  as  a  toast; 
As  cross  as  two  sticks — as  deaf  as  a  post. 
As  sharp  as  a  needle — as  strong  as  an  ox  ; 
As  grave  as  a  jwdge — as  sly  as  a  fox. 

As  old  as  the  hills — as  straight  as  a  dart; 
As  still  as  the  grave — as  swift  as  a  hart. 
As  solid  as  marble — as  firm  as  a  rock ; 
As  soft  as  a  plum — as  dull  as  a  block. 

As  pale  as  a  lily — as  blind  |is  a  bat ; 
As  white  as  a  sheet — as  black  as  my  hat. 
As  yellow  as  gold — as  rtjd  as  a  cherry ; 
As  wet  as  water — as  brown  aB  a  berry. 


20  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

As  plain  as  a  pikestaff — as  big  as  a  house ; 
As  fiat  as  a  table — as  sleek  as  a  mouse. 
As  tall  as  a  steeple — as  round  as  a  cheese ; 
As  broad  as  'tis  long— as  long  as  .you  please. 


Learn  io   Sichn. 

Every  body  should  learn  to  swim.  It  is  not  only  a  delight- 
ful exercise,  but,  by  being  able  to  swim,  a  person  may  some- 
times save  his  own  life,  or  that  of  another. 

An  amusing  stoi-y  is  told  of  a  man,  Avho  had  become  so 
learned  that  he  was  called  a  philosopher;  but  who  had  not 
paid  proper  intention  to  other  things.  He  was  crossing  a 
river '  in  a  ferry-boat,  at  a  place  where  the  passage  was  not 
safe;  but  he  was  thinking  only  d^*his  books,  and  of  the  pleas- 
ure which  they  gave  him. 

On  the  way  across  the  river,  the  philosopher  asked  the 
ferryman,  if  he  understood  arithmetic.  The  man  answered, 
that  he  had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  before.  The  phi- 
losopher told  him  he  was  very  sorry,  for  he  had  lost  a  quarter 
of  his  life  by  his  ignorance.'  • 

The  philosopher  then  asked  him,  if  he  had  learned  mathe- 
matics. The  boatman  smiled,  and  said  he  knew  nothing 
about  it.  The  philosopher  told  him  another  quarter  of  his 
life  had  been  lost. 

The  philosopher  then  put  a  third  question  to  the  boatman, 
and  asked  hin*  if  he  understood  astronomy.  •The  boatman 
told  him  no  ]  that  he  had  never  head  of  it  before.  The  phi- 
losopher replied,  that  another  quarter  of  his  life  had  been  lost. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  boat  ran  on  a  snag,  and  began  to 
sink.  The  ferryman  threw  oif  his  coat,  and  got  ready  to  save* 
himself  by  swimming.  He  then  turned  to  the  philosopher, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  learned  to  swim.  The  philosopher 
told  him  he  knew  nothing  about  it.  '^  Then,^'  said  the  boat- 
man, "  the  whole  of  your  life  is  lost,  for  the  boat  is  going  to 
the  bottom." 

And  so,  indeed,  the  phUpsopher's  life  would  have  been  lost, 
if  the  boatman  had  not  saved  him;  and  the  philosoplicr  saw 
that  a  knowh^dge  of  swimming  was  of  more  value  at  that 
time,  than  all  his  arithmetic,  and  mathematics,  and  astrouomy. 


THE  CONFEDEUATE  FIRST  READER.  21 

We  must  remember  from  this,  that  while  vre  should  learn 
all  we  can,  and  become  as  wise  as  possible,  we  must  not  neglect 
common  thin<2;s. 


Trust  in   Pruiidencc. 

My  times  ol'  sorrow,  and  of  joy, 

Great  God,  arc  in  thv  hand  ! 
Isly  choicest  comforts  come  from  Thee, 

And  go  at  thy  command. 

Though  thou  shouldst  take  them  all  away, 

Yet  would  I  not  repine. 
Before  they  were  possessed  by  me, 

They  were  entirely  thine. 

The  world,  with  all  its  glittering  storer-^, 

Is  but  a  bitter  sweet; 
When  I  attempt  to  pluck  a  rose,- 

A  prickling  thorn  I  meet. 

?\o  peifect  bliss  can  here  be  found; 

The  honey  is  mixed  with  gall. 
'3J.idst' changing  scenes,  and  dying  friends, 

Be  Thou,  my  all  in  all ! 


The  Eagle  and  the    C<M. — A  Fahle. 

One  day,  an  eagle,  that  was  flying  along,  high  in  the  air, 
saw  whUt  he  supposed  to  be  a  fine,  plump  hare,  sleeping  on  a 
bank  in  the  sunshine. 

"Aha  :  m}'  tine  fellow,''  said  the  eagle,  *'  you  are  the  very 
thing  I  am  looking  for.  I  will  spoil  your  nap  for  you  very 
quickly,  and  you  shall  make  me  a  nice  dinner." 

So  he  immediately  pounced  down,  swift  as  an  arrow,  on  the 
sleeping  animal,  stuck  his  sharp  claws  in  his  back,  and  rose 
ag^in  in  the  air,  ^nd  st^'rtcd  to  fly  away  with  hiia  to  a  hill 
top,  where  he  intended  to  eat  hirn. 

But  it  was  a  very  little  time  before  the  eagle  found  out 


22  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

that  he  had  made  a  great  mistake.  Instead  of  a  hare,  that 
could  do  nothinir  but  cry  for  mercy,  he  liad  caught  a  cat,  with 
sharp  teeth,  and  with  claws  as  keen  as  his  own. 

The  cat  was  very  much  surprised,  when  it  first  woke  up,  to 
find  itself  pinched  so  in  the  back,  and  flying  through  tlie  air 
and  over  the  tree  tops,  so  very  rapidly.  But  it  soon  found 
out  what  was  the  matter,  and  so  it  laid  hold  of  the  eagle  with 
might  and  main. 

The  eagle  was  now  the  one  to  be  surprised ;  and  he  begged 
the  cat's  pardon,  and  said  if  the  cat  would  let  him  go,  he  would 
let  the  cat  go.  But  the  cat  would  not  agree  to  that ;  for  he 
was  not  willing  to  fall  from  a  such  a  height.  So  he  made  the 
eagle  fly  back,  and  put  him  down  safely  on  the  same  bank 
where  he  had  found  him;  and  the  eagle  was  glad  enough  to 
get  rid  of  the  cat  on  these  terms. 

Sometimes,  persons  who  attempt  to  injure  others,  And  them- 
selves as  much  mistaken  as  the  eagle  was,  when  he  flew  upon 
the  cat. 


The    Way  to  he  Happy. 

How  pleasant  it  is,  at  the  end  of  the  day^ 

Xo  follies  to  have  to  repent ; 
But  reflect  on  the  past,  and  be  able  to  say, 

That  my  time  has  been  properly  spent. 

When  TVe  done  all  my  business  with  patience  and  care, 
And  been  good,  aftd  obliging,  and  kind, 

I  lie  on  my  pillow,  and  sleep  away  there, 
With  a  happy  and  peaceable  mind. 

But  instead  of  all  this,  if  it  must  be  confen.srd, 

That  I,  careless  and  idle,  have  been ; 
I  lie  down  as  usual,  and  go  to  my  rei-it. 

But  feel  discontented  within. 

Then,  as  I  don't  like  all  the  trouble  I've  had. 

In  future,  I'll  try  to  prevent  it; 
For  I  hcvoi  am  nau:,^iiry  without  being  sad, 

Or  good  without  being  con  tented. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  23 

The  Blrdi  of  Jesus. 

And  there  were  in  the  same  country,  shepherds  abiding  in 
the  field,  keeping  watch  over  their  flock  by  night. 

And,  lo,  the  augel  of  the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shone  round  about  them ;  and  they  were 
sore  afVcfid. 

And  the  angel  said  unto  them,  I'^ear  not:  for,  behold,  I 
bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all 
people. 

For  unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a 
Saviour,  wliieh  is  Christ  the  Lord. 

And  this  shall  be  a  sign  unto  you  :  Ye  shall  find  the  babe 
wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes,  lying  in  a  manger. 

And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel,  a  multitude  of  the 
heavenly  host,  praising  God,  and  saying. 

Glory  to  (rod  in  the  highest,  and  oH  earth  peace,  good  will 
towards  men. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  the  angels  were  gone  away  fi*om 
them  into  heaven,  the  shepherds  said  one  to  another,  Let  us 
now  go  even  unto  Bethlehem,  and  see  this  thing  which  is 
come  to  pass,  which  the  Lord  hath  made  known  unto  us. 

And  they  came  with  haste,  and  found  Mary  and  Joseph, 
and  the  babe  lying  in  a  manger. 

And  when  they  had  seen  it,  they  made  known  abroad  the 
saying  which  wais  told  them  concerning  this  child. 


Filial  Love  Rewarded. 

Frederick  the  Great,  King  of  Prussia,  rung  his  bell  cue 
day,  but  nobody  answered.  lie  looked  into  the  room  where 
the  youth  whom  he  had  for  a  page,  was  usually  in  waiting, 
and  found  him  fast  asleep  on  a  sofa. 

The  King  was  goin^  to  awake  him,  when  ho  perceived  the 
end  of  a  letter  projecting  from  his  pocket.  Being  curious  to 
know  its  contents,  he  took  the  letter  and  read  ^.  It  was  a 
letter  from  liis  mother,  thanking  him  for  sending  hei'  so  large 
a  part  of  his  wages,  to  assist  her  in  her  distress;  and  it  con- 
cluded by  praying  God  to  bless  him,  for  his  filial  afctcutiou  to 
her  wantt. 

The  King  was  muoh  pleased  with  the  letter,  and  was  glad 


24:  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

to  find  that  Ivis  page  was  so  affectionate  and  dutiful  a  son.  He 
returned  softly  to  his  room  and  ppt  a  purse  of  money,  and 
then  came  back,  and  slipped  both  the  purse  and  the  letter, 
into  the  page's  pocket.  He  then  returned  to  his  own  room 
again,  and  rung  the  bell  so  violently  that  the  page  awoke,  and 
came  to  him. 

"  You  have  slept  well !"  said  the  King.  The  page  was 
very  much  confused,  ani  made  an  apology;  but,  in  his  em- 
barrassment, he  happened  to  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
and  thus  discovered  the  purse  of  money.  He  drew  it  out, 
turned  pale,  and,  looking  at  the  King,  he  burst  into  tears, 
without  being  able  to  speak  a  word. 

^'What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  King.  ''What  ails 
you?"  ''Ah  sire,"  said  the  youth,  throwing  himself  at  his 
feet,  "  somebody  wishes  to  ruin  me  I  I  do  not  know  how  this 
money  came  into  my  pocket." 

The  King  kindly  told  him  to  give  himself  no  uneasiness, 
but  to  send  the  money  to  his  mother.  He  also  said,  "  Tell 
her  I  am  glad  she  has  so  dutiful  a  sou;  and  assure  her,  in  my 
name,  that  I  will  take  care  both  of  her  and  you." 


EarJij  Plclij. 

Happy  the  child,  whose  tender  years, 

Receive  instruction  well ; 
Who  hates  the  sinner's  path  and  fears, 

The  road  that  leads  to  hell. 

When  we  devote  our  youth  to  God, 

^  Tis  pleasing  in  His  eyes ; 
A  flower,  when  offered  in  the  bud, 

Is  no  vain  sacrifice. 

'  Tis  easier  work,  if  we  begin 
To  fear  the  Lord  betimes ;  • 

While  sinners,  that  grow  old  in  sin, 
iirc  hardened  in  their  crimes. 

'  Twill  save  us  from  a  thousand  snares, 

Tq  mind  religioTi  young ; 
Grace  will  improve  our  followiog  ye'ars, 

And  make  our  virtue  strong. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  BEADER.  25 

To  Thee,  Almighty  God,  to  Thee, 

Our  childhood  we  resign  ! 
'Twill  please  us  to  look  back  and  see, 

That  our  whole  lives  were  thine  I 

Let  the  sweet  work  of  prayer  and  praise^ 

Employ  my  youthful  breath; 
Thus  I'm  prepared  for  length  of  days. 

Or  fit  for  early  death. 


Mucical  Mice. 

9 

Mice  are  sometimes  very  fond  of  music,  and  it  has  a  won- 
derful effect  upon  them.  It  takes  away  all  their  fear  of  peo- 
ple, and  sometimes  makes  them  play  very  curious  antics. 

A  gentleman  of  Norfolk  City,  in  Virginia,  was  once  sitting 
alone  in  his  chamber,  playing  his  flute.  In  a  few  minutes,  he 
saw  a  little  mouse  creep  out  of  his  hole,  and  advance  towards 
the  chair  in  which  he  was  sitting.  Whenever  the  irentleman 
stopped  playing,  the  mouse  would  run  into  his  hole ;  but  it 
would  come  back7whcn  he  heard  the  flute  again. 

The  actions  of  the  mouse,  while  listening  to  the  music,  were 
very  amusing.  It  would  shut  its  eyes,  crouch  on  the  floor, 
and  seem  to  be  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  At  last  it  went 
away,  and  the  gentleman  never  saw  it  again. 

There  was  once  a  mouse  of  this  sort,  on  board  an  English 
ship.  One  of  the  oflicers  was  playing  a  plaintive  air  on  the 
violin,  when  the  mouse  ran  out  into  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
and  began  to  cut  the  most  violent  capers.  It  leaped  about  as 
if  it  were  frantic  with  jo}^;  and  it  became  more  and  more 
violent  every  moment,  until  it  finally  fell  down,  and  died  from 
the  excitement. 

A  gentleman,  of  Virginia,  was  one  day  amusing  himself  by 
playing  some  airs  upon  the  piano,  when  a  little  mouse  came 
out  to  listen.  It  was  so  much  pleased,  that  it  approached 
nearer;  and  finally  it  climbed  up  on  the  gentleman's  shoulder, 
and  then  out  on  his  arm,  where  it  sat  still,  and  allowed  him 
to  take  it  in  his  hand,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

There  are  nuiny  other  animals  that  are  much  affected  by 
music.  Snakes  have  been  charmed  by  it ;  and  a  negro  man 
once  kept  a  pack  of  wolves  from  eating  him  up,  by  playing 
the  fiddfe  to  them. 


26  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

Emploj/ment. 

Who'll  come  and  play  with  me  under  the  tree? 

My  sisters  have  left  me  alone ; 
My  sweet  little  sparrow,  come  hither  to  me, 

And  play  with  me  while  they  are  gone. 

0  no,  little  Anna,  I  can't  come  indeed, 

I've  no  time  to  idle  away. 
I've  got  all  my  dear  little  children  to  feed, 

And  my  nest  to  new  cover  with  hay. 

Pretty  bee,  do  not  buzz  about  over  the  flower, 
But  come  here  and  play  with  me  now ;        * 

The  sparrow  won't  come  and  stay  with  me  an  hour, 
But  say,  pretty  bee — wilt  not  thou  't 

0  no,  little  Anna,  for  dost  thou  not  see. 

Those  must  work  who  would  prosper  and  thrive  ? 
If  I  play,  they  will  call  me  a  sad  idie  bee. 
And  perhaps  turn  rae  out  of  the  hive. 

Stop !  stop  !  little  ant,  do  not  run  off  so  fast, 
Wait  with  me  a  little,  and  play  : 

1  hope  I  shall  find  a  companion  at  last  ] 

Thou  art  not  so  busy  as  they. 

0  no,  little  Anna,  T  can't  stay  with  thee ; 

We're  not  made  to  play,  but  to  labor. 
There  is  always  something  or  other  for  mo 

To  do  for  myself,  or  a  neighbor. 

What,  then,  have  they  all  some  employment  but  me. 
Who  la}'  lounging  here  like  a  dunce  ? 

O  then,  like  the  ant,  and  the  sparrow,  and  bee, 
I'll  go  to  my  lesson  at  once. 


Monkeys  and  their  Tricks, 

Monkeys  are  very  cunning  and  miscliievous  little  animals, 
that  are  found  in  warm  countries.     They  liave  a  face  some- 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  27 

thing  like  a  man's,  and  they  can  use  their  fore-feet  for  hands. 
They  have  long  tails,  with  which  they  swing  to  trees,  and 
they  are  reniarkubl}^  active. 

Monkeys  are  great  rogues.     The  wild  monkeys  frequently 
plunder  the  gardens  of  persons,  who  live   near   the  forests 
which   they  infest.     When  they  go  on  these  stealing  expedi-- 
tious,  they  place  some  of  their  number  to  act 'as  sentinels,  so 
that  it  is  very^  hard  to  creep  upon  them. 

Monkey^  are  very  easily  tamed,  and  afford  a  great  deal  of 
amusement  by  their  cunning  tricks ;  but  they  have  to  be 
watched  very  closely,  for  they  are  nlways  in  some  mischief. 
They  will  catch  the  cat  and  use  her  claws  to  pull  chestnuts 
out  of  the  tiro.  They  will  snatch  things  out  of  the  pot  if  the 
cook  turns  her  back,  and  they  are  constantly  trying  to  imitate 
every  thing  they  see  others  do. 

There  was  once  on  board  a  ship,  an  African  monkey  named 
Jack,  that  gave  great  amusement  to  the  passengers  and  sailors. 
The  first  thing  he  would  do  in  the  morning,  was  to  upset  the 
parrot's  cage,  and  make  the  lump  of  sugar  roll  out,  when  he 
would  instantly  catch  it  up  and  eat  it. 

He  would  snatch  the  caps  off  the  sailors'  heads,  and  if  they 
were  not  very  quick,  would  throw  them  overboard.  AVheu 
the  cook  was  preparing  breakfast,  he  would  sit  near  the  grate, 
and  watch  his  chance  to  steal  something.  He  sometimes 
burnt  his  fingers  by  these  rogueries,  but  it  did  not  cure  him 
oi'  them. 

The  captain  would  sometimes  turn  the  ship's  pigs  on  deck, 
that  they  might  run  about  for  exercise.  This  was  always  a 
grand  time  for  Jack.  He  would  spring  upon  the  pigs'  backs, 
and  ride  them  all  over  the  ship.  The  pigs  would  be  very 
much  frighloncd,  and  run  with  all  their  might.  Sometimes 
they  would  upset  Jack,  and  then  the  sailors  would  laugh  at 
liini,  which  he  did  not  like. 

There  was  a  little  black  monkey  on  board  the  same  ship. 
Jack  caught  him  one  day,  and  painted  him.  He  held  him 
by  the  back  of  tlie  neck  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other, 
he  took  the  painter's  brush,. and  covered  him  all  over  with 
white  paint.  Jack  was  so  afraid  that  the  captain  would  whip 
him  for  this,  that  he  scampered  up  to  the  maintop,  and  staid 
there  three  days  before  he  would  come  down.  A  lady,  how- 
ever, who  was  on  board,  persuaded  the  captain  to  pardon 
him;  and  so  Jack  escaped  the  punishment  which  he  knew  he 
deserved. 


*  28  *  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

The  Lion  and  the  Mouse. — A  Fahle. 

A  lion  lay  sleeping  in  the  forest  one  day,  when  gome  mice 
began  to  amuse  themselves  by  running  over  him.  He  sud- 
denly roused,  and  catching  at  a  mouse  that  did  not  get  away 
as  quickly  as  the  others,  he  seized  him  in  his  paw,  and  was 
about  to  kill  h;m. 

The  poor  mouse  was  terribly  alarmed,  and  begged  hard  for 
his  life.  The  lion  looked  at  the  little  trembler,,and  like  a 
noble  animal,  thought  it  would  be  a  discreditable  thing  for 
one  so  big  as  he,  to  hurt  one  so  small  as  the  mouse.  So  he 
generously  forgave  the  mouse  for  his  mischief,  and  told  him 
to  go  free.  The  mouse  lost  no  time,  but  scampered  away  as 
fast  as  he  could. 

It  happened  a  few  days  afterwards,  that  the  lion  was  hunt- 
ing in  the  same  woods.  While  he  was  not  watching  his  steps 
very  closely,  he  got  entangled  in  a  net,  which  a  cunning 
hunter  had  set  for  him.  He  was  now  as  much  frightened  as 
the  little  mouse  had  been,  and  he  roared  with  terror. 

The  mouse  heard  him,  and  knew  by  his  voice,  that  it  was 
the  same  lion  which  had  given  him  his  life.  He  immediately 
hurried  to  the  lion's  assistance,  as  fast  as  his  little  legs  could 
carry  him.  When  he  saw  what  was  the  matter,  he  told  the 
lion  not  to  be  uneasy,  for  he  would  soon  set  him  free.' 

So  the  mouse  went  to  work  with  his  sharp  little  teeth,  and 
soon  gnawed  the  cords  in  two,  in  so  many  places,  that  the  lion 
got  out  without  any  difficulty.  The  lion  was  very  much  sur- 
prised and  pleased,  when  he  found  that  the  helpless  little 
mouse  had  been  able  to  render  him  such  great  service. 

This  fable  teaches  us  to  be  kind  to  the  weak  and  helpless ; 
and  to  remember  that  there  is  no  person  so  much  below  us, 
that  he  may  not  be  able  to  render  a  good  service  in  time  of 
need. 


To  the  Lady-Bird. 

Lady-Bird,  Lady-Bird,  fly  away  home ' 
The  field-mouse  has  gone  to  her  nest; 

The  daisies  have  shut  up  their  sleepy  red  eyes, 
And  the  bees  and  the  birds  are  at  rest, 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  29 

Lady-Bird,  Lady-Bird,  fly  away  home  ! 

The  glowworm  is  li<j:hting  her  lamp ; 
The  dew  is  falling  fast,  and  your  fine  speckled  wings 

Will  flag  with  the  cumbering  damp. 

Lady-Bird,  Lady-Bird,  fly  away  home  I 

Good  luck  if  you  roach  it  at  last ; 
The  owl  is  abroad,  and  the  bat's  on  the  roam, 

Sharp  set  from  their  tedious  fast. 

Lady-Bird,  Lady-^ird,  fly  away  home  I 

And  if  not  gobbled  up  on  the  way, 
You  should  reach  your  snug  nest  in  the  old  willow-tree, 

Yon  are  lucky, — and  I  have  no  more  to  say. 


Tlic   Faifhfd  Day. 

A  gentleman,  accompanied  by  his  dog,  was  travelling  in 
the  West  of  England,  when  night  overtook  him.  Not  being 
acquainted  with  the  road,  he  soon  lost  his  way,  and  fell  into 
a  coal-pit  thirty  feet  deep. 

All  night,  the  dog  ran  round  and  round  the  mouth  of  the 
pit,  barking  and  howling,  as  if  he  was  trying  to  call  somebody 
there  to  extricate  his  master.     But  nobody  came. 

The  next  morning,  he  went  back  to  the  house  where  his 
master  had  last  staid.  When  he  got  there,  he  did  every  thing 
he  could,  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  servants.  He  would 
look  at  them  and  whine,  and  would  throw  himself  on  his  back 
before  them,  as  if  he  was  begging  them  to  do  something. 

The  servants  offered  him  food,  but  he  would  not  eat  it.  He 
did  nothing  but  howl,  and  run  backwards  and  forwards  about 
the  door,  and  give  other  signs  of  being  in  great  distress  about 
something.     But  the  servants  could  not  understand  him. 

At  last,  the  lady  of  the  house,  thinking  that  something 
must  be  the  matter,  tol4  one  of  the  servants  to  follow  him 
wherever  he  might  go.  The  dog  was  now  delighted,  and 
rapidly  led  the  way  to  the  pit  into  which  his  master  had 
fallen.  The  gentleman  had  given  himself  up  for  lost,  and 
expected  nothing  but  to  starve  to  death ;  but  the  servant 
went  back  for  help,  and  soon  returned  and  rescued  him  from 
hii  terrible  situation. 


so  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIIIST  READER. 

Old   Cato. 

Do  you  tliiuk  our  poor  dog,  to  tlio  stable  we'll  seud, 

Because  he's  grown  feeble  aud  old  't 
No,  no,  every  night,  quite  secure  from  alarm, 
Old  Cato  must  sleep  in  the  kitchen  so  warm  ; 

He  shan't  be  turn'd  out  in  the  cold. 

I  remember  the  time  when  so  frisky  and  gay, 

He  would  bark  at  each  one  that  he  met ; 
And  watch  round  the  house  while  asleep  we  all  lay, 
If  a  base  lurking  robber  came  prowling  that  way : 
These  things  I  can  never  forget. 

And  when  Tom,  the  shepherd,  would  drive  out  the  sheep, 

He'd  watch  by  the  side  of  the  fold ; 
No,  no,  my  poor  Cato,  secure  from  all  harm, 
Shall  eat  and  shall  drink  in  the  kitchen  so  warm ; 

He  shan't  be  turn'd  out  in  the  cold. 


The  Indian  and  His  Dog. 

A  family  b}'  the  name  of  Lefevre,  lived  near  the  Blue 
Bidge  mountains,  many  years  ago.  An  Indian,  named  Tewe- 
nissa,  frequently  culled  to  spend  the  night,  when  his  journey- 
ings  led  him  past  the  house  of  Lefevre.  He  was  always 
cordiall}'^  welcomed,  and  kindly  entertained. 

One  day,  when  Tewenissa,  laden  with  furs,  stopped  at  the 
house  of  his  friend,  he  found  no  one  at  home,  but  an  old  ne- 
gro woman.  "Where  is  my  brother?"  asked  the  Indian, 
*'Ah  sir,'^  said  the  woman,  ''his  littls  boy  Derick,  only  four 
years  old,  the  same  that  you  loved  to  take  upon  your  knee, 
wandered  away  into  the  forest  on  yesterday,  and  is  lost;  and 
all  the  neighbors  are  helping  the  distressed  parents  to  look 
for  him."  "  .  • 

Tewenissa  was  grieved  when  he  learned  of  the  sorrow  of 
his  friend's  family,  and  the  misfortune  to  his  little  favorite. 
He  sounded  the  horn,  and  called  in  the  hunting  party;  and 
then  he  told  Mr.  Lefevre  that  he  would  find  his  little  boy. 

Tewenissa  then  asked  for  the  shoes  and  stockings  that  little 


I'HE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  gl 

Derick  had  last  worn.  Ho  next  called  his  faithful  dog  Ouiah, 
and  made  him  smell  them.  Taking  the  house  for  a  centre,  he 
then  commenced  drawing  a  circle  all  around  it  with  his  stick, 
making  Oniah  smell  the  earth  as  he  went. 

The  circle  was  not  completed  before  the  sagacious  dog  be- 
gan to  bark,  lie  had  discovered  the  scent,  and  he  commenced 
to  follow  the  little  boy's  track,  barking  as  he  went.  The  In- 
dian followed  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  so  did  little  Derick's 
parents,  and  the  rest  of  the  party;  but  the  dog  ran  so  fast 
that  he  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  they  heard  Oniah  bark  again,  and 
soon  they  saw  him  returning.  He  was  frisky  with  joy;  so 
that  the  Indian  knew  at  once,  that  he  had  found  the  little  boy, 
but  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive  could  not  yet  be  known. 
The  dog  now  led  the  way  with  Tewenissa  following  close  at 
his  heeJs,  until  they  came  to  little  Derick  lying  at  the  foot  of 
a  large  tree. 

The  little  boy  was  alive,  but  extremely  weak  and  exhausted, 
80  that  he.  could  not  have  liyed  much  longer.  Tewenissa  took 
him  up  in  his  arms,  and  carried  him  to  his  parents,  who  were 
almost  overcome  with  joy.  Hy  proper  treatment,  little  Derick 
was  soon  as. well  as  ever. 

The  gratitude  of  the  parents,  to  the  Indian  and  to  his  dog, 
was  so  great  that  for  a  long  tim^  they  could  do  nothing  but 
Weep;  and  Tewenissa  was  almost  as  much  pleased  as  they 
were.  And  the  neighbors,  when  they  separated,  went  to  their 
homes  highly  delighted  v^th  the  good  Indian,  and  his  wonder- 
ful dog. 


Kind  Word.<. 

A  little  word  in  kindness  spoken, 

A  motion  or  a  tear. 
Has  often  healed  the  heart  that's  broken, 

And  made  a  friend  sincere. 

A  word,  a  look,  has  crushed  to  earth, 

Full  many  a  budding  flower. 
Which,  had  a  smile  but  owned  its  birth, 

Would  bless  life's  darkest  hour. 


S2  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER 

Then  deem  it  not  an  idle  thing, 

A  pleasant  word  to  speak ; 
The  face  you  wear,  the  thoughts  you  bring, 

A  heart  may  heal  or  break. 


The  Good-Natured  Dog. 

Some  dogs  are  very  fond  of  playing  with  little  boys,  and 
will  take  as  much  pleasure  in  the  game,  as  any  of  them.  They 
will  run  after  a  ball,  and  bring  it  back  to  the  one  who  threw 
it,  and  do  many  other  amusing  things. 

There  was  a  large  dog,  named  Bernard,  that  belonged  to 
the  teacher  of  a  large  school  of  boys  in  Virginia,  Bernard 
seemed  to  know  as  well  as  any  one,  when  the  time  approached 
for  play ;  and  wheu  the  boys  came  runi^ug  out  into  the  yard, 
he  would  meet  them,  ready  to  tal^e  his  share  in  their  amuse- 
ments. 

His  favorite  sport  was  to  take  a  stick  in  his  mouth  and 
walk  towards  them,  noddiug  his  head  at  them,  as  if  he  was 
challenging  them  to  catch  him  and  take  the  stick  away.  A 
troop  of  boys  would  immediately  pursue  him,  and  the  game 
would  begin.  Bernard  woilld  run  just  fast  enough  to  keep 
them  from  catching  him.  The  boys  would  sometimes  surround 
him,  and  think  they  were  sure  of  him ;  but  just  as  they  would 
grab  at  him,  he  would  jump  between  two  of  them,  or  dart 
between  their  legs,  and  away  he  would  go.  Sometimes  they 
would  get  near  enough  to  catch  at  his  bushy  tail;  but  he 
would  make  a  sudden  leap  and  elude  them  again. 

At  last,  after  the  chase  had  been  kept  up  till  they  were  all 
tired,  Bernard  would  let  them  have  the  pleasure  of  catching 
him,  and  taking  his  stick  away;  and  then  they  would  jump 
on  his  back,  or  do  any  thing  with  him  that  they  wished,  and 
he  would  never  hurt  them  or  get  angry.  Indeed,  the  .boys 
all  considered  him  one  of  the  best  playmates  they  had. 


The  Larh  and  her  Young  Ones. — A  Fable. 

A  lark  having  made  her  nest  in  a  wheat-field,  the  wheat 
became  ripe  before  the  young  larks  were  able  to  fly.     Being 


l^HE  COXFEDERATK  FIRST  READER.  gg 

afraid  .that  the  farmer  would  cut  down  liis  wheat  before  she 
had  provided  another  place  for  her  little  ones,  she  directed 
them,  while  she  was  gone  to  get  food  for  them,  to  listen  to 
what  they  might  hear  the  farmer  sa}''  about  beginning  his 
harvest. 

The  old  lark  then  went  out,;  but  when  she  came  home 
again,  the  little  birds  ran  to  her  and  said,  ''  Oh.  mother,  take 
us  away  from  here  just  as  soon  as  you  can ;  for  while  you 
were  gone  we  heard  the  farmer  tell  his  sons  that  the  wheat 
was  ripe,  and  that  they  must  go  and  ask  some  of  his  neigh- 
bors to  come  early  to-morrow  morning,  and  help  him.' to  cut  it 
down." 

^'If  that  is  what  he  said,  you  need  not  be  afraid,  my  chil- 
dren,^' said  the  old  lark.  "  If  the  farmer  depends  upon  his 
neighbors  to  do  his  work  for  him,  he  will  find  himself  mis- 
taken, and  we  shall  be  verv  safe  where  we  are.  So  lie  down 
in  your  nest,  and  give  yourselves  no  uneasiness." 

The  next  day,  when  the  old  laik  was  going  out,  she  gave 
her  young  ones  the  same  directions.  In  the  evening,  when 
she  returned,  the  little  larks  told  her  the  neighbors  had  not 
come  to  cut  down  the  wheat ;  but  they  begged  her  to  move 
them  immediately  ;  for  the}'  said  that  the  farmer  had  told  his 
sons  to  go  and  request  his  friends  and  relations  to  come  early 
the  next  morning,  and  assist  him. 

"  "We  are  in  no  danger  yet,  my  children,"  said  the  old  larlc; 
^^  for  as  long  as  he  looks  to  his  friends  and  relations,  to  do  for 
him  what  he  ought  to  do  for  himself,  his  wheat  will  go  un- 
harvested.  So  we  will  make  ourselves  quiet,  and  stay  in  our 
nest,  for  we  have  no  cause  for  anxiety  at  present." 

The  next  day  the  mother-lark  again  told  her  young  ones'to 
listen  to  what  the  farmer  might  say,  and  tell  her  when  she 
came  back.  In  the  evening,  when  she  came  home,  the  little 
larks  told  her  that  the  farmer  had  been  there  with  his  sons, 
but  that  his  friends  and  relations  did  not  come  to  assist  him. 
The  farmer  then  told  his  sons  to  grind  their  scythes,  and  get 
ready,  and  that  early  to-morrow  morning,  they  would  begin 
and  harvest  the  wheat  themselves. 

"  AVe  must  now  prepare  to  leave  immediately,"  said  the  old 
lark )  "  for  when  a  man  resolves  to  do  his  work  himself,  and  to 
depend  upon  nobody  else,  the  work  is  pretty  sure  to  be  done; 
but  as  long  as  he  depends  on  friends  or  neighbors,  he  is  almost 
sure  to  effect  nothing."  So  the  old  lark  moved  th«  little  birds 
8 


g4  THE  COXFEDERaTE  l-HtST  READER. 

that  saiue  evening,  into  another  field ;  and  sure  enongh,  the 
next  morning  the  larmer  aud  his  sons  came,  and  cut  down  the 
wheat. 

This  fable  teaches  us  to  do  our  work  ourselves,  aud  not  rely, 
upon  others  to  do  it  lor  us  U'  we  trusit  to  others,  they  will 
often  di><appoint  us  ;  aud  it  will  also  produee  habits  of  lazinessa 
and  dependence,  which  will  prevent  us  from  ever  being  pros- 
perous or  usfelul. 


Th^    Anf  nilL 

Take  eaVe^  little  lUehurd  !  don't  hurry  so  fas^t 
Look  w^ell  to  your  footsteps,  my  boy — 

If  on  that  ant  hill  you  carelessly  tread; 
You  will  many  hour;^'  labor  destroy. 

For  these  poor  little  ants  have  been  working  all  day 

To  build  up  that  minikin  pile ; 
One  grain  at  a  time  they  have' lifted  it  out, 

And  been  patient  as  lambrf  all  the  while. 

They  have  scoop'd  out  a  little  snug  hole  in  the  earth, 

Their  winter's  provisions  to  hold  ; 
And  t»  serve  for  a  bedroom,  when  summer  is  pa-st^ 

Secure  from  the  rain  and  the  cold. 

IIow  cruel  'twould  be  to  kick  over  a  liou.^e 
Which  has  cost  so  much  toil  to  prepare  ! 

Step  aside,  little  llichard,  and  learn  to  be  wise. 
From  the  busy  ant's  provident  care. 

If  with  diligence  now,  you  will  study  your  book, 
And  be  careful  each  moment  to  save ; 

Should  you  live,  my  dear  child,  to  the  winter  of  age, 
What  a  fine  stock  of  knowledge  you'll  have  ! 

But  let  this  one  truth  sink  deep  in  your  heart, 

And  keep  it  forever  in  mind ; 
That  your  learning  will  be  to  no  purpose,  unless 

Ygu  are  humble^  and  modct^t,  and  kind. 


TUE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  BEADER.  05 

For  learning  alone  will  not  make  you  bcIovVl, 

If  you're  cruel,  or  selfish,  or  vain; 
But  a  sweet,  lowly  temper  will  win  every  heart, 

And  the  blessing  of  Heaven  obtain. 


Home  dogs  are  so  vicious  that  it  is  not  safe  to  let  tlieni  run 
at  large.  They  are  kept  chained  in  the  day  time,  and  only 
(urned  loose  at  night  for  the  purpose  of  guarding  their  own* 
ers'  houses  and  other  property,  from  thieves  and  robbers. 
Sometimes  they  get  loose  during  the  day,  and  do  much  mischief. 

A  drayman's  horse  once  escaped  from  him  in  a  certaiu  city, 
and  commenced  to  gallop  up  the  street.  The  drayman  started 
after  him,  and  called  to  the  people  whom  he  saw,  to  stop  the 
horse,  and  help  him  to  catch  him  again. 

A  number  of  persons  ran  out  into  the  street  to  head  the 
horse,  and  with  them  there  wciit  a  bull-dog,  which  is  one  of 
the  fiercest  kinds  of  dogs.  The  bull-dog  instantly  sprang  at 
the  horse,  and  seized  him  by  the  upper  lip. 

This  frightened  the  horse  so  much,  and  gave  him  so  much 
pain,  that  he  became  frantic.  So  he  ran  along  several  streets 
with  all  his  might,  the  bull-dog  hanging  to  his  lip  all  the 
time.  At  length  a  crov.d  got  in  front  of  the  horse,  and 
stopped  him ;  but  he  was  so  wild  with  paiu  and  fear,  that 
he  ran  through  a  hardware  store,  and  into  a  parlor  where  the 
family  were  at  tea. 

The  family  were  not  expecting  such  a  visitor  as  that.  They 
had  not  invited  a  horse  to  take  supper  with  them,  with  a  bull- 
dog hanging  to  his  lip.  But  they  had  not  much  time  to  ask 
questions  ;  ibr  the  horse  upset  their  table,  and  broke  their 
china,  and  spoiled  their  supper,  before  they  knew  what  was 
the  matter. 

A  number  of  men  now  seized  the  horse,  and  held  him,  while 
others  tried  to  beat  off  the  savage  dog.  But  all  their  efforts 
were  in  vain  ;  for  the  bull-dog  hung  on  to  the  horse's  lip, 
with  metciless  and  unyielding  grip.  At  last  one  of  the  com- 
pany had  to  take  a  knife  and  cut  the  dog's  throat,  in  order  to 
relieve  the  horse.  It  might  perhaps  have  been  done  by  taking 
a -stick,  and  prizing  open  the  dog's  mouth. 


30  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  HEADER. 

If  ever  you  see  a  horse  frantic  witli  fright,  j^ou  must  be 
very  watchful,  or  he  may  run  over  you ;  fur  horses  in  that 
state,  will  dash  into  a  house  or  against  a  tree,  or  butt  their 
brains  out  against  a  wall,  without  seeming  to  know  or  care 
what  they  are  doing. 


God  Seen  in  All  Things. 

Thou  art,  0  God  !  the  life  and  light, 
Of  all  this  wondrous  v;orld  we  see ; 

Its  glow  by  day,  its  smile  by  night. 
Are  but  reflections  caught  from  thee. 

Where'er  we  turn,  thy  glories  shine, 

And  all  things  fair  and  bright  are  thine. 

When  day,  with  farewell  beam,  delays, 
Among  the  golden  clouds  of  even, 

And  we  can  almost  think  we  gaze, 
Through  opening  vistas,  into  heaven ; 

Those  hues,  that  make  the  sun's  decline 

So  soft,  so  radiant,  Lord  !  are  thine. 

When  night,  with  wings  of  stormy  gloom, 
O'ershadows  all  the  earth  and  skies. 

Like  some  dark  beauteous  bird,  whose  plume 
Is  sparkling  with  unnumbered  dyes; 

That  sacred  gloom,  those  fires  divine. 

So  grand,  so  countless,  Lord  I  arc  thine. 

When  youthful  Spring  around  us  breathes. 
Thy  spirit  warms  her  fragrant  sigh ; 

And  every  flower  that  Summer  wreathes, 
Is  born  beneath  thy  kindling  eye. 

Where'er  we  turn,  thy  glories  shine, 

And  all  things  fair  and  bright,  are  thine. 


Show  and  Use — The  Two  Colts. 

A  nobleman  once  had  a  beautiful  blooded  colt,  and  also  a 
mule- colt.     He  gave  the  young  horjse  to  hig  neighbor,  Mr. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  37 

Scamper,  wlnle  tlie  little  mule  went  to  a  very  poor  man,  wlio 
made  his  living  by  cutting  wood. 

Mr.  Scamper  was  greatly  deliglited  with  his  fine  colt ;  and 
indeed,  as  he  grew  up,  he  became  still  handsomer.  His  color 
was  bright  bay,  with  a  white  star  in  his  forehead,  and  his 
hair  was  fine  and  smootb,  and  as  glossy  as  silk. 

Mr.  Scamper  was  resolved  to  train  him  up  for  a  race-horse ; 
for  he  was  too  fine  a  horse  to  be  put  to  any  useful  purpose. 
So  he  was  kept  in  a  warm  stable,  and  fed  with  the  best  of 
corn  and  hay,  and  was  duly  curried  and  rubbed,  and  regu- 
larly exercised.  Indeed,  Mr.  Scamper  treated  him  with  as 
much  care  and  tenderness,  as  he  did  his  own  children. 

When  this  fine  horse  was  three  years  old,  jMr.  Scamper 
sent  him  away  to  be  trained  for  the  race-course.  The  expense 
of  this,  was  greater  than  Mr.  Scamper  could  aftbrd  -,  so  he 
had  to  take  his  children  from  the  good  .school  to  which  they 
were  going,  and  send  them  to  an  inferior  one,  because  it  was 
cheaper. 

The  next  year  the  young  racer  was  placed  upon  the  turf. 
He  was  beaten  the  first  race;  but  he  came  out  second.  In  the 
next  race,  he  was  successful ;  and  Mr.  Scamper  was  almost 
crazy  with  joy.  Mr.  Scamper  now  gave  his  whole  atten- 
tion to  racing;  and  at  last  he  became  so  excited,  that  he 
made  up  a  race  in  which  he  bet  all  he  was  worth  on  his 
horse.  The  race  was  lost,  and  Mr.  Scamper  was  broken  up 
and  ruiued 

The  httle  mule,  meanwhile,  had  grown  up  also,  but  through, 
a  great  deal  of  hardship.  He  had  to  live  on  what  he  could 
find  ill  the  lanes  and  among  the  bushes ;  and  in  winter,  he  had 
no  stable  to  shelter  in.  As  soon  as  he  v/as  big  enough  to  ride, 
two  or  three  of  the  children  would  mount  him  at  a  time,  and 
beat  him  along  with  sticks.  T5ut  he  grew  up  healthy  and 
strong. 

His  owner  then  set  him  to  hauling  wood  to  market,  and  in 
this  way  the  mule  was  very  profitable  to  him.  He  soon  made 
enough  money,  to  buy  a  plenty  of  food  for  his  mule,  which 
thus  became  fat  and  greatly  improved.  After  awhile,  he  was 
able,  out  of  the  earnings  of  his  mule,  to  buy  a  horse  and 
cow;  and  he  soon  became  quite  a  fiirmer,  and  grew  rich.  So 
that  while  Mr.  Scamper's  present  ruined  him,  because  his 
horse  was  thought  too  fine  for  service,  the  mule  made  the 
wood-cuttcr's  fortune,  because  he  put  him  to  a  good  use.    * 


58  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

How  to  Tell  Bad  News. 

Mr.  7/.— Ha  1  Steward,  how  are  you,  my  old  boy  ?  Jlow 
do  things  go  on  at  home  ? 

Steward. — Bad  enough,  your  honor.     The  magpie's  dead. 

Mr.  H. — Poor  Mag !  so  he's  gone.     How  came  he  to  die  ? 

Stew. — Over-ate  himself,  sir. 

Mr.  II. — Did  he,  indeed?  a  greedy  villain  !  Why,  what 
did  he  get  that  he  liked  so  well  ? 

Steic. — Horse-flesh,  sir;  he  died  of  eating  horse-flesh. 

Mr.  H. — How  came  he  to  get  so  much  horse-flesh  ? 

Stew. — All  your  father's  horses,  sir. 

Mr.  TT.— What !  are  they  dead,  too  ? 

Steio. — Ay,  sir;  they  died  of  over-work. 

Mr.  II. — And  why  were  they  over- worked,  pray? 

Stew. — To  carry  water,  sir. 

Mr.  H. — To  carry  water  !  and  what  were  they  carrying 
water  for  ? 

Steif. — Sure,  sir,  to  put  out  the  fire. 

Mr.  II. — Fire  !  what  fire  ? 

Stew. — 0,  sir,  your  father's  house  is  burned  down  to  the 
ground. 

Mr.  II. — My  father's  house  burned  down  !  and  how  came 
it  set  on  fire  ? 

Stew. — I  think,  air,  it  must  have  been  the  torches. 

Mr.  II — Torches  I  what  torches  ? 

Stew. — At  your  mother's  funeral. 
'  3Ir.  II. — Alas  !  has  my  mother  died  ? 

Stevj. — Ah,  poor  lady,  she  never  looked  up  after  it. 

Mr.  //.—After  what? 

Steit:. — The  loss  of  your  father. 

Mr.  II.~Mj  father  gone,  too  ? 

Stew. — -Yes,  poor  gentleman,  he  took  to  his  bed  as  soon  as 
he  heard  of  it. 

3Ir.  /?.— Heard  of  what? 

Stew. — The  bad  news,  sir,  and  please  your  honor. 

Mr.  H. — ^What!  more  miseries ?  more  bad  news?  No!  you 
can  add  nothing  more  ! 

Stew. — Yes,  sir;  your  bank  has  failed,  and  your  credit  is 
lost,  and  you  are  not  worth  a  shilling  in  the  world.  I  made 
bold,  sir,  to  come  to  wait  on  you  about  it,  for  I  thought  you 
would  like  to  hear  the  news. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  39 

Contented    John. 

There  was  honest  John  Tompkins,  a  hedger  and  ditcher, 
Although  he  was  poor,  he  did  not  sigh  to  be  richer  ] 
For  all  such  vain  wishes,  to  him  were  prevented, 
By  a  fortunate  hubit  of  being  contented.    - 

If  cold  was  the  weather,  or  dear  was  the  food, 
John  never  was  fuund  in  a  murmuring  mood ; 
For  this,  he  was  constantly  heard  to  declare, — 
What  he  could  not  prevent,  he  could  cheerfully  bear. 

For  why  should  I  grumble  and  murmur,  he  said  ; 
If  I  cannot  get  meat,  I  can  surely  get  bread ; 
And  though  fretting  may  make  my  calamities  deeper, 
It  never  can  cause  bread  and  cheese  to  be  cheaper. 

If  John  was  afflicted  with  sickness  or  pain, 

He  wished  himself  better,  but  did  not  complain, 

Nor  lie  down  to  fret,  in  despondence  and  sorrow, 

But  said — that  he  hoped  he  would  be  better  to-morrow. 

If  any  one  wronged  him,  or  treated  him  ill, 

Why,  John  was  good-natured  and  sociable  still ; 

For  he  said,  that  revenging  the  injury  done, 

Would  be  making  two  bad.men,  where  there  need  be  but  one. 

And  thus  honest  John,  though  his  station  was  humble, 
Passed  through  this  sad  world,  without  even  a  grumble; 
And  I  wish  that  some  folks,  who  are  greater  and  richer, 
Would  copy  John  Tompkins,  the  hedger  and  ditcher. 


ihe  Earth  and  Its  Inhahiiants. 

It  was  four  thousand  and  four  years  bcfqre  the  coming  of 
(Jhrist,  or  nearly  six  thousand  years  ago,  when  this  earth  was 
first  inhabited  by  men. 

There  are  now  five  varieties  or  races  of  men  found  on  the 
earth.  They  are  distinguished  from  each  other  partly  by  their 
diffcreut  colors.  There  are  the  White  race,  the  Yellow  race, 
Ihe  Bed  race,  the  Brown  race,  and  i\\Q  Black  race. 


40  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  HEADER. 

The  White  people  live  cliiefly  in  Europe,  and  they  came 
thence  to  America.  The  Yellow  and  the  Brown  people,  live 
chiefly  in  Asia,  and  the  great  Islands  near  Asia.  The  Black 
people  live  in  Africa,  or  came  from  there.  The  lied  people, 
called  Indians,  live  in  America. 

America  was  not  known  to  White  people,  until  nearly  four 
hundred  years  ago.  A  brave  man,  named  Christopher  Co- 
lumbus, was  the  first  to  discover  it.  After  sailing,  for  many 
months  and  days,  across  the  dark  waters  of  the  ocean,  where 
nobody  had  ventured  before,  he  came  in  sight  of  America  on 
the  11th  October,  in  the  year  1492. 

When  America  was  discovered,  it  was  grown  up  in  forests. 
There  were  no  cities,  or  towns,  or  houses,  such  as  we  have 
'now;  and  no  farms  and  meadows,  and  no  ships  and  steamboats 
on  the  rivers.  The  woods  were  filled  with  all  sorts  of  wild 
animals,  and  the  Indians  lived  chiefly  by  hunting  them  with 
their  bows  and  arrows. 

When  the  White  men  first  came  here,  the  Indians  thought 
that  they  and  their  ships,  had  dropped  down  from  the  sky. 
They  supposed  that  they  were  superior  beings^  and  were  very 
much  afraid  of  them,  and  treated  them  generally  with  great 
kindness. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  the  White  people  began 
to  oppress  them;  and  then  there  arose  war  and  fighting,  in 
which  the  Indians  behaved  very  cruelly,  but  were  always  van- 
quished, and  a  great  man}"  of  them  were  destroyed ;  so  that 
there  are  very  few  Indians  nov/,  compared  with  the  number 
that  were  here  when  Columbus  discovered  America. 


Gratitude. 

Whene'er  I  take  my  walks  abioad, 

How  many  poor  I  see  ! 
What  shall  I  render  to  my  God, 

For  all  his  gifts  to  me  1 

Not  more  than  others  I  deserve, 
Yet  God  has  given  me  more  ; 

For  I  have  food  while  others  starve, 
( )r  beg"  from  door  to  door. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  41 

How  many  ehilaren,  on  the  street, 

Half  naked  I  behold; 
While  I  am  clothed  from  head  to  feet, 

And  sheltered  from  the  cold. 

While  some  poor  creatures  scarce  can  tell, 

Where  they  may  lay  their  head, 
I  have  a  home  wherein  to  dwell, 

And  rest  upon  my  bed. 

While  others  early  learn  to  swear, 

And  curse,  and  lie,  and  steal, 
Lord  !  I  am  taught  th^^  name  to  fear, 
And  do  thy  holy  will. 

Are  these  thy  favors,  dry  by  Jay, 

To  me  above  the  rest? 
Then  let  me  lovo  thee  more  than  they, 

And.  try  to  :3erYe  thee  best  I 


,  Heaven, 

The  rose  is  sweet,  but  it  is  surrounded  with  thorns;  the 
Bpring  i3  pleasant,  but  it  is  soon  past;  the  rainbow  is  glorious, 
but  it  vauisheth  away ;  life  is  good,  but  it  is  quickly  swallowed 
up  in  death. 

Tlicre  iy  a  place  of  rest  for  the  righteous ;  in  that  land 
there  is  light  without  auy  cloud»  and  fiowere  that  never  fade. 
Myriads  of  happy  souls  are  there,  singing  praises  to  God.     . 

That  country  is  Heaven  :  it  is  the  country  of  those  that  are 
good;  and  nothing  that  is  wicked  must  inhabit  there.  This 
earth  is  pleasant,  for  it  is  God's  earth,  and  it  is  filled  with 
delightful  thing-8. 

But  that  country  is  better  :  there  we  shall  not  grieve  any 
more,  nor  be  sick  any  more,  nor  do  wrong  any  more.  In  (hit 
country  there  are  no  quarrels;  all  love  one  another  with  dear 
love. 

When  our  friends  die,  and  are  laid  in  the  cold  ground,  we 
see  them  here  no  more ;  but  there  we  shall  embrace  them, 
and  never  be  parted  {torn  them  uguiu.  There  we  eiiail  b'et3  Jiii 
U:o  ^jd  lilt:  a  '"h-jki  -v^  t'^i^l  9i> 


42  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

There  we  shall  pee  Jesus,  who  is  gone  before  us  to  that  happy 
place ;  there  we  shall  behold  the  glory  of  the  high  Gud. 


The   Clirktian  Race. 

Awal^e,  my  soul !  stretch  every  nerve, 

And  press  with  vigor  on  ! 
A  heavenly  race  demands  thy  zeal, 

And  an  immortal  crown. 

A  cloud  of  witnesses  around, 

Hold  thee  in  full  survey. 
Forget  the  steps  already  trod, 

And  onward  urge  thy  way. 

^Tis  God's  all-animating  voice. 
That  calls  thee  from  on  high, 

'Tis  his  own  hand  presents  the  prize. 
To  thine  aspiriag  eye  : 

My  soul !  with  sacred  ardour  fired, 

The  glorious  prize  pursue; 
And  meet  with  joy,  the  high  command, 

To  bid  the  OHrth  adieu. 


The  SeasoTiB. 

Who  is  this  beautiful  maiden  that  approaches,  clothed  in  a 
robe  of  green  light?  She  has  a  garland  of  flowers  on  her 
head,  and  flowers  spring  up  wherever  she  sets  her  foot.  The 
snow  which  covered  the  fields,  and  the  ice  which  was  on  the 
rivers,  melt  away  when  she  breathes  upon  them. 

The  young  lambs  frisk  about  her,  and  the  birds  warble  to 
welcome  her  coming.  When  they  see  her,  they  begin  to 
choose  their  mates,  and  to  build  their  nests. '  Youths  and 
maidens,  have  ye  seen  thl«  beautiful  virgin  ?  If  ye  have, 
tell  me  who  she  is,  and  what  is  her  name. 

Who  is  this  that  cometh  from  the  south,. thinly  clad  in  a 
light,  transparent  garment?  Her  breath  is  hot  and  sultry. 
fflXQ  seeks  tii6  cloa j 's'trearos,  th©  crygtaJ  btopk?,  to  batho  ^ler 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER,  43 

languid  limbs.  The  brooks  and  rivulets  fly  from  Ler,  and  are 
dried  up  at  her  approach.  She  cools  her  parched  lips  with 
berries,  and  the  grateful  ncida  of  fruits.  The  tanned  hay- 
makers welcome  her  coming;  and  the  shcep-shoarer,  who 
clips  the  fleeces  off  his  flock  with  his  sounding  shears. 

When  she  cometh,  let  me  lie  under  the  thick  shade  of  a 
spreading  beech-tree,— let  me  walk  with  her  in  the  early 
morning,  when  the  dew  is  yet  upon  the  grass,-~let  me  wander 
with  her  in  the  soft  twilight,  when  the  shepherd  shuts  his 
fold,  and  the  star  of  the  evening  appears.  Who  is  she  that 
cometh  from  the  south  ?  Youth  and  maidens,  tell  me,  if  ye 
know,  who  she  is,  and  what  is  her  name. 

Who  is  he  that  cometh  with  sober  pace,  stealino^upon  us 
unawares?  His  garments  are  red  with  the  blood  of  the  grape, 
and  his  temples  are  bound  with  a  sheaf  of  ripe  wheat.  His 
bair  IS  thin,  and  begins  to  fall,  and  the  auburn  is  mixed  with 
mourning  gray.  He  shakes  the  brown  nuts  from  the  tree. 
He  winds  the  horn,  and  calls  the  hunters  to  their  sport.  The 
gun  sounds.  The  trembling  partridae  and  the  beautiful 
pheasant  flutter  bleeding  in  the  air,\and  fall  dead  at  the 
sportsman's  feet.  Youth  and  maidens,  tell  me,  if  ye  know 
who  he  is.  and  what  is  his  name. 

\yho  Ls  he  that  cometh  from  .the  north,  in  furs  and  warm 
wool.''  He  wraps  his  cloak  close  about  him.  His  head  is 
bald;  his  beard  is  made  of  sharp  icicles.  He  loves  the  blaziuL' 
fire  high  piled  upon  the  hearth,  and  the  wine  sparkling  iu  the 
glass.  He  binds  skates  to  his  feet,  and  skims  over  the  frozen 
lakes.  His  breath  is  piercing  and  cold,  and  no  little  flower 
dares  to  peep  above  the  surface  of  the  ground  when  he  is  bv 
Whatever  he  touches,  turns  to  ice.  Youth  and  maidens  do 
you  soG  him  i  He  is  coming  upon  us,  and  eoon  will  be  here 
Xcil  liio^  it  yc  know,  who  he  is,  and  what  is  his  name 


TJie  Creator  Greater  than  JXh   WorJcs.. 

Come,  and  I  will"  show  you  what  is  beautiful.'   It  is  a  rose 
tully  blown      bee  how.  she  sits  upon  her  mossy  stem,  like  the 

IS  failed  with  her  sweet  odor;  she  is  the  delight  of  every  eye 
She  IS  beautiful,  but  tte^e  i.  a.^drpr.tlia^  bljc.'   Ho  that 


44  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

wade  the  rose,  is  more  beautiful  thau  tlic  rose  :  He  is  all  lovely  : 
He  is  the  delight  of  ever}'  heart. 

I  will  show  you_what  is  strong.  The  lion  is  strong.  When 
he  raiseth  himself  from  his  lair,  when  he  shaketh  his  mane, 
when  the  voice  of  his  roaring  is  heard,  the  cattle  of  the  field 
fly,  and  the  wild  beasts  of  the  desert  hide  themselves,  for  he 
is  very  terrible. 

The  lion  is  strong,  but  He  that  made  the  lion  is  stronger 
than  he.  His  auger  is  terrible  :  He  could  make  us  die  in  a 
moment,  and  no  one  could  save  us  irom  His  hand. 

I  will  show  you  what  is  glorious.  Q'hc  sun  is  glorieus. 
When  ha  shineth  in  the  clear  sky,  and  is  seen  all  over  the 
earth,  he  is  the  most  glorious  object  the  eye  can  behold. 

The  sun  is  glorious,  but  He  that  made  the  sun  is  more  glo- 
rious than  he.  The  eye  beholdeth  Him  not,  for  His  brightness 
is  more  dazzling  than  we  could  bear.  He  sceth  in  all  dark 
places,  by  night  as  well  as  by  day,  and  the  light  of  His  coun- 
tenance is  over  all  His  works. 

Who  is  this  great  name,  and  what  is  he  called,  that  my  lips 
may  praise  him  ? 

This  great  name  is  irod.  He  made  all  things,  but  He  is 
himself  more  excellent  than  they.  They  are  beautiful,  but  He 
is  beauty;  they  are  strong,  but  He  is  strength ;  they  are  per- 
fect, but  He  is  perfection. 


The  Old  Morse. 

No,  children,  he  shall  not  be  sold ; 

Go  lead  him  home,  and  dry  your  tears. 
*Tis  true,  he's  blind,  and  lame,  and  old, 

But  he  has  served  us  twenty  years. 

Well,  has  he  served  us, — gentle,  strong, 
And  willing,  through  life's  varied  stage ; 

And  having  toiled  for  us  so  long, 
We  will  protect  him  iu  his  age. 

Our  debt  of  gratitude  to  pay^    - 
His  faithful  merits  to  requite, 
Hi:-'  play-grotiud  be  the  field  by  day, 
-  ■■  A  shod  shall  &b61t-2r  Mm*ii  rzighi. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  4,5 

A  life  of  labor  was  liis  lot ; 

He  always  tried  to  do  his  best. 
Poor  fellow,  now  we'll  grudge  thee  not, 

A  little  liberty  and  rest. 

Go,  then,  old  friend  ;  thy  future  fait?, 
To  range  the  fields  from  harness  free ; 

And  just  below  tlie  cottage  gate, 
I'll  go  and  build  a  shed  for  thee. 


The  Ten  Commandments, 

And  God  spake  all  these  words,  saying : 

I.  Thou  ihalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me. 

II.  Thoii  shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any  graven  image,  or 
the  likeness  of  any  thing  that  is  in  heaven  above,  or  that  is 
in  tlie  earth  beneath,  or  that  is  in  the  waters  under  the  earth : 

Thou  shalt  not  bow  down  thyself  to  them,  nor  serve  thera ; 
for  I  the  Lord  thj  God,  am  a  jealous  God,  visiting  the 
iniquity  of  the  father^'  upon  the  children,  unto  the  third  and 
fourth  generations  of  them  that  hate  me ; 

And  showing  mercy  unto  thousands  of  them  thai  love  mo 
and  keep  my  commandments. 

III.  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  tlia  Lord  thy  God 
in  vain  ;  for  the  Lord  will  not  hold  him  guiltless  that  taketh 
his  name  in  vain. 

IV.  Kemember  the  Sabbath-day  to  keep  it  holy. 
Six  days  shalt  thou  labor  and  do  all  th}-  work : 

But  the  seventh  is  the  Sabbath  of  the  Lord  thy  God :  iu 
it  thou  shalt  not  do  any  work,  thou  nor  thy  son  nor  thy 
daughter,  thy  man-servant,  nor  thy  maid-servant,  nor  thy 
cattle,  nor  the  stranger  that  is  within  thy  gates. 

For  in  six  days  the  Lord  made  heaven  and  earth,  the  sea, 
and  all  that  in  them  is,  and  rested  the  seventh  day :  where- 
lore  the  Lord  blessed  the  Sabbath-day  and  hallowed  it. 

V.  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother ;  that  thy  days  may 
be  long  upon  the  laud  which  the  Lprd  thy  God  giveth  thee. 

VI  Thou  shalt  not  kill. 

VII  Thou  Bhalt  not  commit  adultoy. 
VIII.   Thou  Ehalt  pot  Bteal. 

.  IXv  Tlica  clialt  i;^[.  t'^^r  i'^-y^*»'i^jbs^  %ai2tl  t'-iyii^B%hl^Jr. 


46  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

X.  Thou  shalfc  not  covet  thy  neiglibor's  house;  thou  shalt 
not  covet  thy  neighbor's  wife,  nor  his  man-servant,  nor  his 
maid-servant,  nor  his  ox,  nor  his  ass,  nor  any  thing  that  is  thy 
neighbor's. 

And  all  the  people  saw  the  thunderinge  and  the  lightnings, 
and  the  noise  of  the  trumpet,  and  the  mountain  smoking. 


Heavenly  Rest. 

There  is  an  hour  of  peaceful  rest, 

To  mourning  wanderers  given  ; 

There  is  a  tear  for  souls  distressed, 

A  balm  for  every  wounded  breast ; 

''Tis  found  above, — in  heaven. 

There  is  a  soft,  a  downy  bed. 

Fair  as  the  breath  of  even ; 
A  couch  for  weary  mortals  spread, 
Where  they  may  rest  the  aching  head, 

And  find  repose, — in  heaven. 

There  is  a  home  for  weary  souls. 

By  sin  and  sorrow  driven ; 
When  tossed  on  life's  tempestuous  shoals, 
Where  storms  arise,  and  ocean  rolls, 

And  all  is  dark,— but  heaven. 

There  fragrant  fiowers  immortal  bloom, 

And  joys  supreme  are  given. 
There  rays  divine,  disperse  the  gloom; 
Beyond  the  confines  of  the  tomb, 

iVppears  the  dawa — of  heaven. 


All  for  .the  ^esL 

There  was  once  an  Eastern  traveller,  who  always  said  that 
what  God  allowed  to  be  done,  was  all  for  the  best. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  47 

as  night  approached,  he  found  himself  very  weary  and  hungry. 
The  clouds,  too,  were  growing  black,  as  if  a  storm  was  coming. 
At  last,  he  saw  a  village,  and  rode  up  to  it,  and  asked  for 
shelter  and  lodging  for  the  night.  But  the  men  all  refused, 
and  drove  him  away;  and  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  woods 
near  by. 

The  poor  traveller  thought  it  was  very  hard  that  the  people 
of  the  village  should  be  so  inhospitable  to  him ;  but  he  said 
God  is  just,  and  it  is  all  for  the  best. 

He  turned  his  horse  loose,  so  that  he  might  eat  some  grass. 
He  then  lighted  his  lamp,  and  sat  down  under  a  tree,  and  began 
to  read  the  book  of  the  law.  He  had  not  read  more  than  one 
chapter,  when  the  storm  burst  upon  him,  and  extinguished  his 
lamp.  H^e  was  very  sorry  that  he  had  to  stop  reading,  and  to 
sit  there  iu  the  dark  without  any  thing  to  interest  him.  But 
he  still  said  that  it  was  all  for  the  best. 

After  awhile,  he  stretched  himself  on  the  <rround,  with  his 
faithful  dog  watching  over  him,  and  tried  to  go  to  sleep.  But 
he  had  hardly  closed  his  eyes,  when  a  great  wolf  came,  and 
killed  his  dog.  "Alas,''  he  said,  "  who  will  henceforth  watch 
over  me  when  I  sleep  ?  My  trusty  dog  is  gone !  But,  no 
doubt,  it  is  all  for  the  best." 

Soon  after  he  had  said  this,  a  lion  came  and  devoured  his 
horse.  ''  What  am  I  to  do  now?"  said  the  poor  man.  ''  My 
lanip  is  out,  and  my  dog  is  gone;  and  now  my  horse,  too,  is 
taken  from  me.  But  God  knows  what  is  best  for  us,  poor 
mortals.     It  is  all  for  the  best." 

He  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  early  next  morning,  went 
to  the  village  to  see  if  he  could  buy  another  horse,  that  he 
might  pursue  his  journey.  But  what  was  his  surprise,  when 
he  found  that  there  was  not  a  live  pers6n  in  the  whole  village! 
A  band  of  rubbers  had  come  during  the  night,  and  killed  all 
the  people,  and  plundered  their  houses. 

The  traveller  raised  his  voice  in  thanks  to  God,  for  having 
preserved  him  from  the  danger  into  which  he  was  so  near 
tailing.  "  Now  I  know  truly ,^'  he  said,  "  that  men  are  short- 
sighted and  blind;  often  considering  those  things  as  evils, 
which  God  designs  for  their  good.  If  the  people  had  not 
been  unkind  to  me,  and  driven  me  away  from  their  village,  I, 
too;  should  have  been  murdered  by  the  robbers.  If  the  wind 
had  not  put  out  my  lamp,  they  would  have  found  me  under 
tliptr^o^fjajid  iLilIe'd  mc,    Ai^d  if  my  dog;  and,  i»y:hoy£'3  iiad 


4S  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

not  been  taken  from  me,  tlieir  noise  would  have  attracted  tlie 
attention  of  the  robbers,  and  guided  them  to  me.  Blessed  be 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  all  is  for  the  best." 


The  Rose. 

The  rose  had  been  washed,  just  washed  in  a  shower, 

Which  Mary  to  Anna  conveyed : 
The  plentiful  moisture-encumbered  tlie  flower, 

And  weighed  down  its  beautiful  head. 

The  cup  was  all  filled,  and  the  leaves  were  all  wet; 

And  it  seemed,  to  a  fanciful  view, 
To  weep  for  the  buds  it  had  left  with  regret. 

On  the  fiourishingbush  where  it  grow. 

I  hastily  seized  it,  unfit  as  it  was 

For  a  nosegay,  so  dripping  and  drowned ; 

And  swinging  it  rudely,  too  rudely  alas, 
I  snapped  it—it  fell  to  the  ground. 

And  such,  I  exclaimed,  in  the  pitiless  part, 

Some  act  by  the  delicate  mind; 
Kegardless  of  wringing  and  breaking  a  heart. 

Already  to  sorrow  resigned. 

This  elegant  rose,  had  I  shaken  it  less, 

Might  have  bloomed  with  its  owner  awhile ; 

And  the  tear  that  is  wiped  with  a  little  address, 
May  be  followed,  perhaps,  by  a  smile. 


The  Good  Bo^j. 

Tlie  good  boy  loves  his  parents  very  dearly.  He  .ilwayg 
minds  what  they  say  to  him,  and  tries  to  please  them.  If  they 
desire  him  not  to  do  a  thing,  he  does  it  not:  if  they  desire 
him  to  do  a  thing,  he  does  it  oheerfuliy. 

Whqn  thoy  deny  him  what  he  mshcfe  f.»T,  he  do<s|  not 


THE  COXFKDEKATE  EIRST  READER.  43 

fat  ^'l/^''^^  ^""^  '".''*' ''  P™P«''  f""-  tim  better  tliau  ho 
do^,  because  they  are  wiser  than  he  is 

He  loTes  his  teachers,  and  all  who  tell  him  what  U  -ood 

H«  htes  to  read  and  to  write,  and  to  learn  somethit''new 

every  day.     He  hopes  that  if  he  shall  live  to  be  a  n?n    h! 

He^sTi,!/r'".  "'"r^  '!""="'  """^  ■="  ^'^y  ^i-  ''"  "good 
plavfeLw        H       '  '"'I'^r  T*^   ^i^'te'«,and  all   his  little 
play-te  lows.     Ho  never  faghts  them,  nor  quarrels  with  them 
nor  ealls    hem  names.     When  he  sees  them  do  wron^  hTk 
sorry,  and  tries  to  perstiade  them  to  do  better  ^' 

nersol  whn""'  T'"^  ™'^''^'.'"  ""^  ^"^y-     ^^  ^e  sees  any 
lauLtTh?,     '  'a«'e,  or.  erooked,  or  very  old,  he  does  no^ 

Ifotenl^nrs^rvTee"""'"""'  '""'^ '^  ^'^'^ -"^^  ''^  -> 

He  is  kind  even  to  dumb  creatures :  for  he  knows  that 

though  they  eanoot  speak,  they  can  feel  as  well  as  we      Even 

lie  likes  very  much  to  see  the  birds  pick  up  bits  of  hav 

e"e'trh'er  itr^'' '"  'r"'  "'^"'  "-^'^  -"^;  -^  f>«  ^o 

see  tne  hen  sitting  ou  her  nest,  or  feedino-  her  vouno'onp^. 

"sZS ''sVi'!\''t '" "'™;  -^^'  -^"  helZcnf  cm;: 

and  amo^^,^!    f  '  f ""'  '?  "^"  ''"^''^^'  ""'^  i''  'he  trees, 

not  see  [he  bt  o  T'  ^  ?^'^  "^^'^l  *'  *'>^"'!  ^e  would  rather 
harm  ''  *""  fnghfen  them,  or  do  them  any 

messes  It,  and  says  he  is  very  sorry,  and  will  try  to  do  so  no 

hastn^',!!"'  ^"^1  ''  "'"^'^  ^'  ''"'^•'  ">  ^^"'ember  all  he 
nas  been  doing  and  learning  iu  the  day.     If  he  has  done 

Ztf!   1'  ?  '•'■'■^'  "■"*  ^"P"'  ^'  ^'■«"  ^^  ^0  no  more  :  and 

to  pray  to  food,  and  to  hear  and  read  about  Him  ;  and  to  so 
with  h,s  parents  and  friends  to  worship  Him.  ^ 

we  loTim  L'h'  ^"T  *';■'.'  Sood  boy  loves  him,  and  ,,peaks 
wen  o(  him,  and  is  kind  to  him  ;  and  he  is.veiyh.ippy* 


50  ^'HE  CONPEDEIUTE  FIRST  READER. 

The  Good  Girl 

The  industrious  little  girl  always  minds  what  her  father 
and  mother  say  to  her ;  and  she  takes  pains  to  learn  what- 
ever they  are  so  kind  as  to  teach  her.  She  is  never  noisy  or 
troublesome ;  so  that  they  like  to  have  her  with  them,  and  to 
talk  to  her,  and  to  instruct  her. 

She  has  learned  to  read  so  well,  and  she  is  so  good  a  girl, 
that  her  father  has  given  her  several  little  books,  which  she 
reads  in  by  herself,  whenever  she  likes ;  and  she  understands 
all  that  is  in  them. 

She  knows  the  meaning  of  a  great  many  difficult  words ;  and 
also  the  names  of  a  great  many  countries,  cities,  and  towns, 
and  she  can  find  them  upon  a  map. 

She  can  spell  almost  every  little  sentence,  that  her  father 
asks  her  to  spell ;  and  she  can  write  very  prettily,  even  with- 
out a  copy;  ^nd  site  can  do  a  great  many  sums  on  a  slate. 

Whatever  she  does,  she  takes  care  to  do  it  well ;  and  when 
she  is  doing  one  thing,  she  tries  not  to  think  of  another.  If 
she  has  made  a  Mistake,  or  done  any  thing  wrong,  she  is  sorry 
for  it ;  and  when  she  is  told  of  a  fault,  she  endeavors  to  avoid 
it  another  time. 

When  she  wants  to  know  any  thing,  she  asks  her  father  or 
mother  to  tell  her;  and  she  tries  to  understand,  and  to  re- 
member what  they  tell  her ;  but  if  they  do  not  think  proper 
to  answer  her  questions,  she  does  not  tease  them,  but  says, 
*''When  I  am  older,  they  will  perhaps  instruct  me,^'  and  she 
thinks  about  something  else. 

She  likes  to  sit  by  her  mother,  and  sew,  or  knit.  When 
she  sews,  she  does  not  take  long  stitches,  or  pucker  her  work ; 
but  does  it  very  neatly,  just  as  her  mother  tells  her  to  do. — 
And  she  always  keeps  her  work  very  clean  ;  for  if  her  hands 
are  soiled,  she  washes  them  before  she  begins  her  work ;  and 
•when  she  has  finished  it,  she  folds  it  up,  and  puts  it  by  very 
carefully,  in  her  work-bag,  or  in  a  drawer. 

It  is  but  very  seldom,  indeed,  that  she  loses  her  thread  or 
needles,  or  any  thing  she  has  to  work  with.  She  keeps  her 
needles  and  thread  in  her  little  oa#e ;  and  she  has  a  pincushion 
in  which  she  puts  her  pins. 

She  takes  care  of  her  own  clothes ;  and  folds  them  up  very 
neatly.  She  knows  exactly  where  she  puts  them ;  aifd,  sihe 
could  find  them  even  in  the  diu'k. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  51 

When  she  sees  a  hole  in  her  frock,  or  any  of  her  clothes, 
she  mends  it,  or  asks  her  mother  to  have  it  mended.  She 
does  not  wait  till  the  hole  is  very  large,  for  she  remembers 
what  her  mother  has  told  her,  that  ''A  stitch  in  time  saves 
nine.'' 

She  does  not  like  to  waste  anything.  She  never  throws 
away  or  burns  crumbs  of  bread,  or  peelings  of  fruit,  or  little 
bits  of  muslin,  or  linen,  or  ends  of  thread ;  for  she  has  seen 
the  chickens  and  the  little  birds  picking  up  crumbs,  and  the 
pigs  feeding  upon  peelings  of  fruit;  and  she  has  seen  the 
rag-man  going  about  gathering  rags,  which,  her  mother  has 
told  her,  he  sells  to  people  who  make  paper  of  them. 

When  she  goes  with  her  mother  into  the  kitchen  and  the 
dairy,  she  takes  notice  of  every  thing  she  sees ;  but  she  does 
not  meddle  with  any  thing  without  leave.  She  knows  how 
puddings,  tarts,  butter,  and  bread  are  made. 

She  can  iron  her  own  clothes,  and  she  can  make  her  own 
bed.  She  likes  to  feed  the  chickens  and  the  young  turkeys, 
and  to  give  them  clean  water  to  drink  and  to  wash  themselves 
in.  She  likes  to  work  in  her  little  garden,  to  weed  it,  and  to 
sow  seeds  and  plant  roots  in  it ;  and  she  likes  to  do  little 
jobs  for  her  mother,  and  be  useful. 

If  all  little  girls  would  be  so  attentive  and  industrious,  how 
they  would  delight  their  parents,  and  their  kind  friends;  and 
they  would  be  much  happier  themselves,  than  when  they  are 
obstinate,  or  idle,  or  ill-humored,  and  not  willing  to  learn  any 
thing  properly,  or  mind  what  is  said  to  them. 


Elexjij  on  Madame  Blaize. 

Good  people,  all,  with  one  accord, 
Lament  for  Madam  Blaize ; 

Who  never  wanted  a  good  word, 
From  those  who  spoke  her  praise. 

The  needy  seldom  passed  her  door. 

And  always  found  h'er  kind ; 
She  freely  lent  to  all  the  poor, 
Who  left  a  pledge  behind. 


52  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

She  strove  tlie  neigliborhood  to  please, 
With  manners  wondrous  winning; 

She  never  followed  wicked  ways. 
Unless  when  she  was  sinning. 

At  church,  in  silks  and  satins  new, 
With  hoops  of  monstrous  size. 

She  never  slumbered  in  her  pew, 
But  when  she  shut  her  eyes. 

Her  love  was  sought,  I  do  aver, 
By  twenty  beaux,  or  more; 

The  king  himself  hath  followed  her. 
When  she  has  walked  before. 

But  now,  her  wealth  and  finery  flud, 
Her  hangers-on,  cut  short  all, 

Her  doctors  found,  when  she  was  dead^ 
Her  last  disorder,  mortal 

Let  us  lament,  in  sorrow  sore ; 

For  Kent-street  well  may  say, 
That,  had  she  lived  a  twelve-month  more. 

She  had  not  died  to-day. 


Description  of  Heaven. 

And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth ;  for  the  first 
heaven  and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away,  and  there  was 
no  more  sea. 

And  I,  John,  saw  the  holy  city,  new  Jerusalem,  coming 
down  from  God  out  of  heaven,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned 
for  her  husband. 

And  I  heard  a  great  voice  out  yf  heaven,  saying,  Behold 
the  tabernacle  of  Glod  is  with  men,  and  he  will  dwell  with 
them,  and  they  shall  be  his  people,  and  God  himself  shall  be 
with  them,  and  be  their  God. 

And  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes ;  and 
there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying, 
neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain  :  for  the  former  tilings 
are  passed  away. 


THE  CONFEDERATE. FIRST  READER.  53 

And  the  twelve  gates  were  twelve  pearls;  every  several 
gate  was  of  one  pearl ;  and  the  sti'eet  of  the  city  was  pure 
gold,  as  it  were  transparent  glass. 

And  I  saw  no  temple  therein;  for  the  Lord  God  x\lmighty, 
and  the  Lamb,  are  the  temple  of  it. 

And  the  city  had  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon, 
to  shine  it;  for  the  glory  of  God  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb 
is  the  light  thereof. 

And  the  gates  of  it  shall  not  be  shut  at  all  by  day;  for 
there  shall  be  no  night  there. 

And  there  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  it  any  thing  that 
defileth,  neithei-  \A'4iatsover  worketh  abomination  or  maketh  a 
lie;  but  they  which  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life. 


The  Dangers  of  Life. 

Awake,  my  soul !  lift  up  thine  eyes ; 
See  where  thy  foes  against  thee  rise, 
In  long  array,  a  numerous  host ! 
Awake  my  soul !  or  thou  art  lost. 

Here  giant  danger,  threat'ning  stands, 
Must'ring  his  pale,  terrific  bands; 
There,  pleasure's  silken  banners  spread, 
And  willing  souls  are  captive  led. 

See  where  rebellious  paasions  rage, 
And  fierce  desires  and  lusts  enarasre : 
The  meanest  foe  of  all  the  train 
Has  thousands  and  ten  thousands  slain. 

Thou  tread'st  upon  enchanted  ground ; 
Perils  and  snares  besot  thee  round ; 
Beware  of  all,  guard  every  part. 
But  most  the  traitor  in  thy  heart. 

Come  then,  my  soul,  now  learn  to  wield 
The  weight  of  thine  immortal  shield; 
Put  on  the  armor  from  above 
Of  heavenly  truth  and  heavenly  love. 


5^  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

The  terror  and  tlie  charm  repel, 
And  powers  of  earth,  and  powers  of  hell 
The  man  of  Calv'ry  triumph'd  here ; 
Why  should  hib  faithful  followers  fear? 


The    Good  Samoriian. 

And  beliold,  a  certain  Lwyer  stood  up  and  tempted  Jesus, 
saying,  Master,  what  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ? 

Jesus  said  unto  him,  AVhat  is  written  In  the  law  ?  ITow 
read  est  thou  ? 

And  he,  answering,  said.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy 
strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind ;  and  thy  neighbor  as  thy- 
self. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thou  hast  answered  riglit :  this 
do,  and  thou  shalt  live. 

But  he,  willing  to  justify  himself,  said  unto  Jesus,  And 
who  is  my  neighbor  ? 

And  Jesus,  answering,  said,  A  certain  man  went  down 
from  Jeiusalem  to  Jericho,  and  fell  among  thieves,  who 
stripped  him  of  his  raiment,  and  wounded  him,  and  departed, 
leaving  him  half  dead. 

And  by  chance  there  came  down  a  certain  priest  that  way ; 
and  when  he  saw  him,  he  passed  by  on  the  other  side. 

And  likewise  a  Levite,  when  he  was  at  the  place,  came  and 
looked  on  him,  and  passed  by  on  the  other  side. 
-    But  a  certain  Samaritan,  as  he  journeyed,  came  where  he 
was :  and  when  he  saw  him,  he  had  compassion  on  him, 

And  went  to  him,  and  bound  up  his  wounds,  pouring  in 
oil  and  wine,  and  set  him  on  his  own  beast,  and  brought  him 
to  an  inn,  and  took  care  of  him. 

And  on .  the  mOrrow,  when  he  departed,  he  took  out  two 
pence,  and  gave  them  to  the  host,  and  said  unto  him.  Take 
care  of  him ;  and  whatsoever  thou  spendest  more,  when  I 
come  again  I- will  repay  thee. 

Which  now  of  these  three,  thinkest  thou,  was  neighbor 
unto  him  that  fell  among  the  thieves  ? 

And  he  said.  He  that  showed  mercy  on  him.  Then  said 
Jesus  unto  him^  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  55 

The  Ant  and  the  Glow-  Worm.— A  Fable. 

When  night  had  spread  its  darkest  shade, 
And  even  the  stars  no  light  convej^ed, 
A  little  ant  of  modest  gait, 
Was  pacing  homeward,  somewliat  late. 

Piejoiced  was  she,  to  keep  in  sight, 
A  brilliant  glow-worm's  useful  light; 
Which,  like  a  lantern  clear,  bestowed 
Its  brightnc!^s  o'er  her  dangerous  road. 

l*assing  along  with  footstep  firm, 
8he  thus  addressed  the  glittering  worm  : 
*^  A  blessing,  neighbor,  on  your  light ! 
I  kindly  thank  you  for  it.  '  Good-night/' 

"  What!"  said  the  vain,  though  glowing  thing, 
"  Do  you  employ  the  light  1  fling  ? 
I  do  not  shine  for  such  as  you ! " 
It  proudly  then  its  light  withdrew. 

Just  then  a  traveller,  passing  by, 
Who  had  beheld  with  curious  eye, 
The  beauteous  brightness,  now  put  out, 
Left  all  in  darkness  and  in  doubt, 
Unconscious  stepped  his  foot  aside, 
And  crushed  the  glow-worm  in  its  pride. 

God,  in  His  wise  and  bounteous  love, 
Has  given  us  talents  to  improve ; 
And  those  who  hide  the  precious  store, 
May  do  much  harm,  and  suffer  more. 


Crucijixion  of   Christ, 

^  And  as  they  led  Jesus  away,  they  laid  hold  upon  Simon,  a 
Cyrenian,  coming  out  of  the  country,  and  on  him  they  laid  the 
cross,  that  he  might  bear  it  after  Jesus. 


56  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

And  there  followed  liim  a  great  company  of  people,  and  of 
women,  which  also  bewailed  and  Inmeutc-d  him. 

But  Jesus  turning  unto  them,  said.  Daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves,  and  for  your  chil- 
dren. 

And  there  were  .also  two  others,  malefactors,  led  with  him 
to  be  put  to  death. 

And  when  they  were  come  to  the  place  which  is  called  Cal- 
vary, there  they  crucified  him,  and  the  malefactors ;  one  on 
the  right  hand  and  the  other  on  the  left. 

Then  said  Jesus,  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do.     And  they  parted  his  raiment,  and  cast  lots 

And  the  people  stood  beholding.  And  the  rulers  also  with 
them  derided  him,  saying,  He  saved  others ;  let  him  save  him- 
self, if  he  be  Christ,  the  chosen  of  God. 

And  the  soldiers  also  mocked  him,  coming  to  him  and  offer- 
ing him  vinegar, 

And  saying.  If  thou  be  the  King  of  tiie  Jews,  save  thy- 
self. 

And  a  surperscription  was  also  written  over  him,  in  letters 
of  Greek,  and  Latin,  and  Hebrew,  THIS  IS  THE  KING  OF 
THE'JEWS. 

And  one  of  the  malefactors  which  were  hanged,  railed  on 
him,  saying,  If  thou  be  Christ,  save  thyself  and  us. 

But  the  other  answering;,  rebuked  him^  saying.  Dost  thou 
not  fear  God,  seeing  thou  art  in  the  same  condemnation  ? 

And  we  indeed  justly ;  for  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our 
deeds  :  but  this  man  hath  done  nothing  amiss. 

And  he  said  iinto  Jesus,  Lord,  remember  me  when  thou 
comest  into  thy  kingdom. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Verily  I  say  unto  thee.  To-day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise. 

And  it  was  about  the  sixth  hour,  and  there  was  a  darkness 
over  all  the  earth  until  the  ninth  hour. 

And  the  sun  was  darkened,  and  the  vail  of  the  temple  was 
rent  in  the  midst. 

And  when  Jesus  had  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  he  said, 
Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  ray  spirit;  and  having 
said  thus,  he  gave  up  the  ghost. 

Now  when  the  centurion  saw  what  was  done,  he  glorified 
God,  saying  certainly  this  was  a  righteous  man. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  57 

•    The  Wise  Bird  and  the  Foolish  Ones. — A  Fahle. 

Once,  on  a  rnQminp:  in  winter,  tlie  sun  slione  brightly,  and 
the  air  was  as  miid  and  warm  as  if  it  were  the  month  of  June. 
The  sun  had  melted  the  snow  away,  and  the  buds  had  almost 
begun  to  appear  on  the  troes. 

The  little  birds  assembled  iu  the  grove,  and  some  of  them 
said  that  the  spring  had  come,  and  that  it  was  time  to  choose 
their  mates  and  build  their  nests. 

But  there  was  an  old  bird  who  advised  them  not  to  be  so  fast, 
lie  told  them  that  he  had  seen  many  sucli  warm  days  in  winter, 
before  the  cold  weather  was  past,  lie  said  that  the  snow  and 
the  frost  would  come  again,  and  that  the  weather  would  bo  too 
cold  for  them  to  build  their  nests. 

"  Wait  a  little  while,"  said  the  wise  old  bird  ;  "  wait  a  little 
longer,  until  the  winter  is  past,  with  its  snow  and  its  ice,  and 
until  the  weather  has  become  settled  and  warm." 

AVliile  the  old  bird  was  talking,  up  jumped  a  pert  young 
gold-finch.  lie  had  a  smooth  head,  that  shone  like  satin, 
and  bright  and  beautiful  wings;  and  he  thought  that  he  was 
very  wise. 

lie  told  the  other  birds  not  to  mind  what  the  old  bird  said. 
lie  declared  that  he  knew  that  the  winter  was  over  ;  and  that, 
for  his  part,  he  intended  to  choose  his  mate,  and  build  hia 
nest,  without  waiting  any  longer. 

iMany  of  the  other  birds,  said  they  would  do  so  too.  So 
they  built  their  nests,  and  laid  their  eggs,  and  thought  they 
were  getting  along  ever  so  finely.  But  the  old  birds  remained 
quiet,  waiting  for  settled  weather. 

Soon  tlie  cold  winds  began  to  blow  once  more.  The  rain^ 
and  the  hail,  and  the  snow,  fell  again,  and  filled  the  nests  with 
water  and  ice.  The  egss  were  all  spoiled,  and  the  young  birds 
now  saw  that  they  behaved  in  a  very  silly  manner;  and  they 
said  they  would  listen  the  next  time  to  the  advice  of  the  wise 
old  birds  instead  of  those  who  had  no  experience. 

The  Boasting  Girl  and  the  Conceited  Pigeon. 

Anna  Strong  was  a  great  boaster.     She  always  wanted  a 
very  long  lesson,  and  would  say,  ''  Indeed  I  can  learn  it  allj 
it  is  not  too  hard  for  me."     But  when  she  went  to  recite  it  to- 
her  teacher,  she  very  often  knew  nothing  about  it, 
4 


58  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READEH. 

If  any  thing  was  to  be  done  at  home,  or  at  school,  Anna 
"would  always  say,  "/  knoF  how;  please  let  me  do  it;"  even 

if  it  was  a  thiog  she  could  not  do  at  aiL 

One  day,  her  teacher  afked  Bome  one  in  the  class,  to  point 
out  some  cities  on  the  map,  so  that  all  in  (he  class  might  see 
them.  Anna  jumped  up,  and  oeked  the  teacher  to  let  her  do 
it,  for  that  she  could  do  it  ytrj  accurately. 

The  teacher  gave  consent,  and  Anna  went  to  the  map;  but 
she  could  not  find  a  single  city  that  the  teacher  asked  for. — 
So  the  teacher  told  her  she  was  like  the  silly  pigeon  that  the 
fable  tells  about. 

The  fable  says  that  when  the  pigeon  first  came  into  the 
world,  the  other  birds  went  to  her,  and  offered  to  teach  her 
bow  to  build  a  nest.  The  robin  showed  her  its  nest,  made  of 
straw  and  mud;  the  cat  bird  showed  one  made  of  sticks  and 
bark ;  and  the  sparrow  told  how  it  had  made  its  nest  of  hair 
and  moss. 

But  the  -pigeon  walked  about  in  a  very  conceited  manner, 
tossing  her  head  from  one  side  to  lbs  other,  and  said  to  the 
birds,  ^'you  need  not  tell  me  ;  I  know  how  to  build  a  nest  as 
■well  as  any  of  you  " 

The  black-bird,  and  the  dove,  then  ofiered  their  a,«si.stancr^, 
and  told  the  pigeon  how  thej  made  their  nests.  But  the 
pigeon  would  hardly  listen  to  ihem,  but  kept  saying,  '-I  know 
how." 

At  last,  the  birds  all  went  away,  and  left  her ;  but  when 
the  pigeon  attempted  to  build  her  nest,  she  found  that  she 
knew  nothing  at  all  about  it.  And  so  she  would  not  have  had 
a  nest  at  all,  if  men  had  not  taken  pity  on  her,  and  built  her 
a  pigeon-house,  and  put  some  hay  in  it. 

When  the  teacher  told  her  this  fable,  little  Anna  said  t^.at 
it  is  much  better  to  be  willing  and  anxious  to  learn,  il.au  to 
be  boastful,  aad  to  pretend  to  know  more  than  we  do. 


The  Hare  and  the   Tortoise, 

Said  a  hare  to  a  tortoise,  ^'  Good  sir,  what  a  while 
You  have  been  only  crossing  the  way ; 

Why  I  really  believe  that  to  go  half  a  mile, 
You  must  travel  two  nighty  and  a  day." 


fHil  COS'FKT)EtlAtE  FIRST  READER.        ^        59 

*'  I  am  very  contented,"  the  dfeature  replied, 

"  Though  I  walk  but  tortoise's  pace ; 
But  if  you  think  proper  the  poiut  to  decide, 
We  will  rt'.ii  liali'  n  niih^  in  a  race." 

((  YvMy  good,"  said  rhc  )i:ire  ;  ,^aid  the  tortoise  "  Proceed, 

And  the  fox  shiil)  decid<^.  who  has  won;" 
Then  the  hare  started  off  with  incredible  speed  j 

But  the  tortoisse  wulk'd  Icisurt-ly  on. 

'^  Come,  tortoise,  iViond  tortoise,  walk  on,"  said  the  hare, 

"  While  I  shall  ,stay  here  for  my  dinner; 
AVhy,  'twill  take  you  a  month,  at  that  rate,  to  get  there, 

Then  how  can  you  hope  lo  be  winner?  " 

But  the  tortoise  could  not  hear  a  word  that  she  said. 

For  he  was  far  distant  behind; 
So  the  have  felt  secure  whilst  at  leisure  she  fed, 

And  took  a  sound  nap  when  she  dined. 

So  at  last  this  slow  walkei*  catne  up  with  the  hare. 

And  there  fast  asleep  did  he  spy  her; 
And  he  cunningly  crept  with  such  caution  and  care. 
That  she  woke  not,  although  he  pass'd  by  her. 

"  Well  now,"  thought  the  hare,  when  she  open'd  her  eyes, 
^^  For  the  race — and  I  soon  shall  have  done  it;" 

But  who  can  describe  her  chagrin  and  surprise, 
When  she  found  that  the  tortoise  had  won  it? 

Thus  plain  plodding  people,  we  often  shall  find, 
Will  leave  hasty  confident  people  behind. 


The  Echo. 

A  little  boy  who  had  learned  to  bark  like  a  dog,  was  one 
day  walking  near  a  body  of  woods,  when  lie  -thought  he  would 
amuse  himself  by  barking.     So  he  said,  "Bow!  wow!  wow!" 

As  soon  as  he  had  made  these  sounds,  a  voice  in  the  woods 
said  "  Bow  !  wow  !  wow  ! "  The  little  boy  thought  there  was 
a  dog  in  the  woods,  and  so  he  called  out,  "  Doggy  I  doggy  ! '' 


60  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

As  soon  as  he  had  said  this  he  heard  a  voice  in  the  woods  say 

"  Dogfry  !  doggy  !  '^ 

"  Who  are  you?  ''  said  the  little  boy.  ^'  Who  are  you  ?" 
answered  the  voice  in  the  woods.  ''  I  am  named  Edmund 
Blair,"  said  the  little  boy.  "I  am  named  Edmund  Blair,"  said 
the  voice  in  the  woods. 

"What  do  you  mock  me  for?''  asked  Edmund.  ''What 
do  you  mock  me  for  ? ''  was  the  answer  which  came  back  to 
him. 

".If  I  can  find  you  I  will  whip  you/'  said  Edmund.  "  If  I 
can  find  you  I  will  whip  you,"  was  the  answer  which  quickly 
came  back  from  the  woods. 

This  so  frightened  Edaiund,  that  he  ran  home,  and  told  his 
father  that  there  was  a  bad  boy  in  the  woods,  who  had  threat- 
ened to  whip  him.  His  father  laughed  and  told  him  that 
the  bad  boy  was  named  Echo. 

Edmund's  father  then  explained  to  him ;  that  when  sound 
goes  from  us,  and  strikes  a  hard  body,  like  a  tree,  or  a  wall, 
or  a  bank,  it  comes  back  to  us,  just  as  a  ball  does,  if  we  throw 
it  against  a  house-side.  When  the  sound  thus  returns  to  us, 
we  hear  our  own  words  over  again,  and  this  is  called  echo. 

EdmuBd  was  no  longer  frightened  after  his  father  told  him 
what  it  was  that  answered  him,  and  so  he  went  back,  and  amused 
himself  a  long  time,  talking  to  his  echo. 


The  Little  Lord  and  the  Farmer  s  Boy. 

A  little  lord,  engaged  in  play, 
Carelessly  threw  his  ball  away ; 
So  far  beyond  the  brook  it  flew, 
His  lordship  knew  not  what  to  do. 

It  chanced  there  passed  a  farmer's  boy, 
Whistling  a  tune  in  childish  joy ; 
His  frock  was  patched,  and  his  hat  was  old, 
But  the  farmer's  heart  was  very  bold. 

"  You  little  chap  !  pick  up  my  ball ! " 
His  saucj  lordship  loud  did  call— ^ 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  gl 

He  thought  it  useless  to  be  polite 

To  one  whose  clothes  were  in  such  a  plight. 

"Do  it  yourself,  for  want  of  me," 
The  boy  replied  right  manfully; 
Then  quietly  he  passed  along, 
Whistling  aloud  his  fav'rite  song. 

His  little  lordship  furious  grew — 

For  he  was  proud  and  hasty  too. 

*'  I'll  break  your  bones  !"  he  rudely  cries, 

While  fire  was  flashing  from  his  eyes. 

And  heedless  quite  what  steps  he  took, 
He  tumbled  plump  into  the  brook ; 
And  as  he  fell,  he  dropped  his  bat, 
And  next  he  lost  his  beaver  hat. 

Come,  help  me  out!"  enraged  he  cried — 
But  the  sturdj^  farmer  thus  replied ; 
^'' Alter  your  tone,  my  little  man, 
And  then  I'll  help  you  all  I  can— 

"  There  are  few  things  I  would  not  dare 
For  gentlemen,  who  speak  me  fair; 
But  for  rude  words  I  do  not  choose 
To  tire  my  feet  and  wet  my  shoes. '^ 

''  Please  help  me,"  then  his  lordship  said ; 
"  I'm  sorry  I  was  so  ill-bred." 
"  'Tis  all  forgot,"  replied  the  hoj, 
And  gave  his  hand  with  honest  joy. 

The  prolFered  aid  his  lordship  took, 
And  soon  came  safely  from  the  brook ; 
His  looks  were  downcast  and  aside, 
For  he  felt  ashamed  of  his  silly  pride. 

The  farmer  brought  his  ball  and  bat, 

And  wiped  the  wet  from  his  drowning  hat; 

And  he  mildly  said,  as  he  went  away, 

*'  Kemember  the  lesson  you've  learned  to-day. 


^^  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

^'  Be  kind  to  all  you  chance  to  meet 
In  field,  or  lane,  or  crowded  street; 
Anger  and  pride  are  both  unwise — 
Vinegar  never  catches  flies  " 


Against  Persecuilon. — A  l^arahle.  ^ 

And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that  Aram  sat  in 
the  door  of  hi?  tent,  about  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 

And  .  behold,  a  man,  bowed  with  age,  came  from  the  way 
of  the  wilderness,  leaning  upon  a  staff. 

And  Aram  arose,  and  went  to  meet  him,  and  said  unto 
him,  Turn  in  I  pray  thee,  and  wash  thy  feet,  and  tarry  all 
night,  and  thou  sbalt  arise  early  on  the  morrow,  and  go  thy 
way. 

And  the  man  said.  Nay,  for  I  will  abide  under  this  tree. 
But  Aram  pressed  him  greatl}^;  so  he  turned,  and  they  went 
into  the  tent;  and  Aram  baked  unleavened  bread,  and  they 
did  eat.  ^  . 

And  when  Araoj  saw  that  the  man  blessed  not  God,  he  said 
unto  him.  Wherefore  dost  thou  not  give  thnnks,  and  worship 
the  most  High  Grod,  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth  ? 

And  the  man  answered  and  said,  I  do  not  worship  the  God 
thou  speakest  off,  neither  do  T  •"•lU  upon  his  name;  for  T  have 
made  me  a  god  which  abideth  in  my  houso,  and  providnth  me 
with  all  things. 

And  Aram's  zeal  was  kindled  against  the  man,  and  he  arose 
and  fell  upon  him,  and  drove  liim  forth,  with  blows,  into  tlie 
wilderness. 

And  at  midnight,  Aram  henrd  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  say- 
ing, Aram,  where  is  the  stranger  that  carfie  unto  thj-  tent  ? 

And  Aram  answered  and  said,  Lord,  he  would  not  worship 
thee,  neither  would  he  call  upon  thynanie;  wherefore  have 
I  driven  him  out  from  before;  njy  fane,  with  blows,  into  the 
wilderness. 

And  God  said,  Have  I  not  borne  with  him  a  hundred  and 
ninety  and  eight  years,  and  nourished  him,  and  clothed  him, 
notwithstanding  he  hath  rebelled  against  me,  and  couldst  not 
thou,  that  art  thyself  a  sinner,  bear  with  him  one  night? 

And  Aram  said,  Let  not  the  anger  of  the  Lord  wax  ho^ 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  63 

o^ainst  his  servant;  for,  lo,  I  have  sinned.  And  Aram  arose, 
and  went  forth  into  the  wilderness,  and  sought  diligently  for 
the  man,  and  found  him,  and  brought  him  to  his  tentj  and 
he  treated  him  kindly  and  did  set  meat  before  him,  and  he 
did  eat.  And  v;hen  the  morrow  came,  he  sent  him  away,  with 
gifts  for  his  journey. 


The  Prodigal  Son. 

A  certain  m'^.n  had  two  sons;  and  the  younger  of  them  said 
to  his  father,  Father,  give  me  the  portion  of  goods  that  falleth 
to  me.     And  he  divided  nnt(»  Uiem  his  living. 

Not  many  days  after,  the  younger-son  gathered  all  together, 
and  took  his  journey  into  a  far  country,  and  there  wasted  his 
substance  in  riotou;^  living. 

And  when  ho  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a  mighty  famine  in 
that  land ;  and  he  begun  to  be  in  want 

And  ho  went  and  joined  hiuiself  to  n.  citizen  of  that  coun* 
try ;  and  he  sent  hiin  into  his  fields  to  feed  swine. 

And  he  would  fain  have  filled  himself  with  the  husks  that 
the  swine  did  eat;  and  no  man  gave  unto  him. 

And  when  he  c.ime  to  himself,  he  said.  How  many  hired 
servants  of  ray  father's  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare,  and 
I  perish  with  hunger ! 

I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  father,  and  will  say  unto  him, 
Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  before  thee, 

And  am  rso  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son :  make  me  as 
one  of  thy  hired  servants. 

And  he  arose  and  came  to  his  father.  But  when  he  was 
yet  a  great  way  oif,  his  futher  saw  him,  and  had  compassioa, 
and  ran  and  fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him. 

And  the  son  said  unto  him.  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven,  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy,  to  be  called 
th}'  ron. 

But  the  father  said  to  his  servants,  Bring  forth  the  best 
robe,  and  put  it  on  him ;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and 
shoes  on  his  feet : 

And  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and  kill  it;  and  let  us  eat 
and  be  merry. 

For  this  my  son,  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again;  he  was  lost 
aud  is  ft/und.     And  th*^  began  to  be  merry. 


61  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

The  Better  Land. 

''  I  hear  thee  speak  of  the  better  land  ; 

Thou  call'st  its  children  a  happy  band  : 

IMother!  oh,  where  is  that  radiant  shore  ? 

Shall  we  not  seek  it,  and  weep  no  more? 

Is  it  where  the  flower  of  the  ofaup;e  blowg, 

And  the  fire-flies  glance  through  the  myrtle  boughs?'* 

*<  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  ! " 

Is  it  .where  the  feathery  palm-trees  rise, 
And  the  date  grows  ripe  under  sunny  skies  ? 
Or  'midst  the  green  islands  of  glittering  seas, 
"Where  fragrant  forests  perfume  the  breeze; 
And  strange,  bright  birds,  en  their  starry  wings,. 
3kar  the  rich  hues  of  all  glvvrious  things  V 
*'  Not  there,  not  there,  my  cliild  ! '' 

''  Is  it  far  away  in  some  region  old, 
AVhere  the  rivers  wander  o'er  sands  of  gold  ? 
Where  the  burning  rays  of  the  ruby  shine, 
And  the  diamond  lights  up  the  secret  mine. 
And  the  pearl  gleams  forth  from  the  coral  strand, — 
Is  it  there,  sweet  mother,  that  better  land?" 
•    "Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  I" 

^^  Eye  hath  not  seen  it,  my  gentle  boy; 
Ear  hath  not  heard  its  deep  sounds  of  joy; 
Dreams  cannot  picture  a  world  so  fair; 
Sorrow  and  death  m-dy  not  enter  there; 
Time  doth  not  breathe  on  its  fadeless  bloom ; 
For  beyond  the  clouds  and  beyond  the  tomb, 
It  is  there,  it  is  there,  my  child  1" 


TIoio  to  Make  the  Best  of  It. 

Robinet,  a  peasant  of  Lorraine,  in  France,  w^s  hastening' 
houjc  alter  a  hard  day's  work,  with  a  little  basket  of  provi- 
sions in  his  hand.     ''  What  a  delicious  supper  I  shall  have !  " 
said  he  to  himself.     This  piece  *of  kid,  well  stewed  down, 
with  my  ouions  sliced,  thickened  with  my  meal,  and  seasoned 


THE  OONfEDERATE  FIRST  READEE,  65 

with  my  gait  and  pepper,  will  make  a  dish  fit  for  the  bishop 
of  the  diocese.  TheQ  I  have  a  good  piece  of  barley-loaf  at 
home,  to  finish  with.     How  I  long  to  be  at  it.'^  , 

A  noise  close  by,  now  attracted  his  notice,  and  he  spied  a 
squirrel  nimbly  runtiing  up  a  tree,  and  popping  into  a  hole 
between  the  branches,  'ila!"  thoiiy;ht  ho,  "what  a  nice 
present  a  nest  o1i  young  squirrels  will  be  to  my  littlo  master. 
I'll  try  if  I  can  get  it.'^ 

Upon  thi3,*he  set  down  his  basket  iu  the  road,  and  began 
io  climb  the  tree.  lie  had  h«lf  ascended,  v^'heu  casting  a  look 
at  his  basket,  he  saw  a  dog  with  his  nose  in  it,  ferretting  out 
the  piece  of  kid's  ficsh.  .He  mnde  all  possible  speed  down, 
but  the  dog  vras  too  quick  for  htin,  and  ran  off  with  the  meat 
i?j  his  mou'h.  Uobiiret  could  only  look  after  him.  "  Well/' 
said  he,  '*  then  I  must  be  coatcnted  with  soup-maigre, — and 
no  bad  thi'og  eilher." 

lie  travelled  on,  and  eanie  to  :;m  inn  on  the  road-side,  where 
an  acquaintance  was  sitting,  who  invited  him  to  stop.  K-obinet 
took  a  seat  on  the  bene]i,and  set  his  busket  close  by  him.  A 
tame  rciven,  which  was  kept  at  the  house,  came  slyly  behind 
l)im,  and  stole  away  the  bug  in  which  the  meal  was  tied  up, 
and  hopped  off  with  it  to  his  hole. 

Kobinct  did  not  mis3  the  bag  until  he  had  started  on  hh 
journey  ngain.  Ife  then  returned' to  search  for  it,  but  could 
hear  no  tidings  of  it.  "We!),"  says  he',  "my  soup  will  be  the 
thininer;  but  I  will  boil  a  slice  of  broad  in  it,  and  that  will  do 
some  good  at  least." 

lie  went  on  ag'^in,  snd  arrived  at  a  little  brook,  over  which 
was  laid  a  narrow  plank.  A  y^ung  woman  coming  up  to  pass 
at  the  same  time,  Robinet  politely  offered  her  his  hand,  to 
assist  her.  As  soon  as  she  got  to  the  middle,  either  through 
fear  or  sport,  she  cried  out  that  she  v\ras  falling.  Robinet, 
ha.^tening  to  support  her  with  his  other  hand,  let  his  basket 
drop  into  the  stream. 

As  soon  as  he  had  conducted  her  .safely  over,  Robinet 
j'.nnped  into  the  water,  and  recovered  his  basket;  but  when 
ho  took  it  out,  he  perceived  that  all  tiie  salt  was  melted,  and 
the  pepp?r  washed  away.  Notliing  wis  now  left  but  the 
onions.  "Well,"  says  Robinet,  "then  I  must  Rup  to  night  on 
roasted  onions  and  barley-bread.  Last  n;ght  I  had  the  bread 
alone.  To-morrow  niyv-ning  it  will  not  t^'gulfy  what  I  l^ad.** 
So'fia^iOj.',  ^»  tradgv»i  on,  eincriug  as  c:.«..**'fuiiy  ae  ever. 

4* 


^g  '  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER* 

The  Discontented  Mole. — A  Fable. 

A  j'oiyag  mole  havinpr  crept  out  into  the  sun  one  day,  met 
Tvith  its  mother,  and  began  to  complain  of  its  lot.  "  I  have 
been  tliinkiug,"  said  he,  *'  that  we  load  a  very  stupid  life, 
burrowing  under  the  ground,  and  dwelling  in  perpetu-.il  dark- 
ness. Fur  my  part,  I  think  it  would  be  much  better  to  live 
above-board,  and  caper  about  in  the  sunlight  like  the  squir- 
rels." 

^' It  may  seem  so  to  you,"  said  the  wise  old  mole,  ''but 
beware  of  forming  hasty  opinions.  It  is  an  old  remark,  that 
it  takes  all  sorts  of  people  to  make  a  world.  Some  cixiaturcs 
live  upon  the  trees;  but  nature  has  provided  them  with  claws, 
v/hich  make  it  easy  and  safe  for  them  to  climb.  Some  dwell 
in  the  water;  but  they  arc  supplied  with  fins,  which  render 
it  easy  for  them  to  move  about,  nnd  with  a  contrivance  by 
means  of  which  they  breathe  where  other  creatures  would 
drown.  JP 

*' Some  creatures  glide  tlirough  the  air;  but  they  are  en- 
dowed with  wings,  without  which,  it  would  be  vain  to  attempt 
to  fly.  The  truth  is,  that  every  individual  is  made  to  fill 
8omc  place  in  the  scale  of  being ;  and  he  best  seeks  his  owa- 
happiuess  in  following  the  path  which  his  Creator  has  marked 
out  for  him. 

*'  We  may  wisely  seek  to  better  our  condition,  by  making 
that  p:ith  as  pleasant  as  possible,  but  not  attempt  to  pursue 
one  which  we  are  unfitted  to  follow.  You  will  best  consult 
your  iiiterest,  by  endeavoring  to  enjoy  all  that  properly  be- 
long.s  to  a  Miole,  instead  of  strivin^'  to  swim  like  a  fi^h,  climb 
like  a  squirrel,  or  fly  like  a  bird.  C^mtentnu-nt  is  the  jrreat 
blessing  of  life  You  nujy  enjoy  this  in  the  quiet  security  of 
your  sheltered  abode;  the  proudest  tenant  of  the  earth,  air, 
or  sea,  can  do  no  more." 

The  young  mole  replied:  ''This  imiy  seem  very  wise  to 
you,  but  it  sounds  like  nonsense  to  me.  I  am  determined  to 
burrow  in  the  earth  no  more,  but  dash  out  in  style,  like  other 
g:iy  people."  So  sayini?,  he  crept  upon  a  little  mound  for  tho 
purjo-e  of  looking:  about,  and  seeing  what  course  of  pleasure 
he  shou'd  ad"jit.  Wiiilo  in  this  sifu^tion,  he  was  snaj>ped  up 
by  a  hiiwk,  who  carried  him  to  a  tall  tree,  and  devoured  hui\ 
without  (ereinony. 

This  fiible  tcichcs  us  to  be  gpntcntc(i  with  our  lot.    Wo 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  ^7 

should  patiently  perform  the  duties  of  the  position  in  which 
we  arc  placed,  and  be  satisfied  with  the  pleasures  and  ad- 
vantages which  Providence  has  placed  within  our  reach. 


The  Eyes  and  the  Nose. 

Between  Nose  and  Eyes,  a  i^trange  contest  arose ; 

The  spectacles  set  them,  unhappily,  wrong. 
The  point  in  dispute  was,  as  all  the  world  l?nows, 

To  which  the  said  spectacles  ought  to  belong. 

So  'I'ongue  was  the  lawyer,  and  argued  the  cause, 

With  a  gieat  deal  of  skill,  sod  a  wig  full  of  learning; 

While  Chief  Baron  Ear  sat  to  balance  the  laws, 
So  famed  for  his  talent  in  nicelv^  dihcerniug. 

^' iii  behalf  cf  the  Nose,  it  will  quickly  appear, 

And  your  lovd.ihip,''  he  said,  "  will  undoubtedly  find, 

That  the  Nose  has  had  spectacles  always  to  wear, 
Which  amounts  to  possession;  time  out  of  mind/' 

Then  holding  the  spectacles  up  to  the  court, — 

"  Your  lordship  observes,  they  are  made  with  a  .straddle, 

As  wide  as  the  ridge  of  the  nose  is;  in  short, 
Designed  to  sit  close  to  it,  just  like  a  saddle. 

''Again,  would  your  lordship,  a  moment,  suppose, 
('Tis  a  case  that  has  happened,  and  may  be  again,) 

That  the  visage  or  countenance  had  not  a  nose, — 
Pray  who  would,  or  could,  wear  spectacles  then  ? 

"  On  the  whole  it  appears,  and  my  argument  sho^^?t, 
With  a  reasoning  the  court  will  never  condemn. 

That  the  spectacles  plainly  were  made  for  the  Nose, 
And  the  Nose  was  as  plainly  intended  for  them." 

Then  shifting  his  side,  (as  a  lawyer  knows  how,) 

lie  pleaded  again  in  behalf  of  the  Eyes. 
But  what  wore  his  arguments,  few  people  know, 

For  tbo  court  did  sot  tbiuk  they  wcro  cc^uaUy  wiao. 


6g  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

So  his  lordship  decreed,  with  a  grave,  solemn  tone, 
Decisive  and  clear,  without  one  //'  or  hut, — 

That  whenever  the  Nose  put  the  spectacles  on, 

Bj  daylight  or  candle- light, — Eyes  should  be  shut. 


•    The  French   Youth 

A  youth  who  had  been  admitted  into  a  luilitary  school  in 
France,  soon  attracted  the  attention  of  his  comrades  by  his 
great  abstemiousness.  Although  a  variety  of  food  was  placed 
upon  the  tabic,  he  never  partook  of  any  thing  but  broad  and 
fioup,  and  drank  nothing  but  water. 

His  teacher  being  informed  of  the  conduct  of  the  youih, 
ascribed  it  to  mistaken  devotion,  and  gave  him  a  reproof.  But 
the  youth  per^^iticd  in  his  course,  and  it  was  ttnally  brought 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  snp<^rintendont  of  the  school. 

The  superintendent  brought  the  boy  before  him,  and  gently 
informed  him  that  such  singuliirity  of  conduct  excited  remark, 
and  produced  disorder,  f-nd  vras  by  no  means  proper  in  a  pub- 
lic instution;  and  he  told  him  he  must  conform  to  the  rules 
and  the  diet  of  the  school. 

The  superintendent  tiieu  inquired  of  ihQ  youth  liis  reason 
for  acting  in  the  manner  he  had  done;  but  the  latter  was  un- 
willing to  aasv'er.  The  superintendent,  at  Inst,  threatened 
that  if  he  still  persisted  in  hi?  refusal  to  explain  hiuiseU',  ho 
should  be  compelled  to  return  him  home  again  to  his  family. 
This  menace  had  the  desired  eiiect,  and  the  youth  then  dis- 
closed the  motive  of  his  conduct. 

^^  You  will  not,  I  hope,  be  dippleased  with  me,  sir,"  said 
he;  ^'but  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  enjoy  what  I  think 
luxury,  while  I  reflect  that  my  dear  father  and  mother,  are  in 
the  utmost  indigence.  They  could  afford  themseU'es  and  me 
no  better  food  than  coarse  brown  bread,  and  of  that,  but  very 
little.  Hero,  I  have  excellent  soup,  and  an  abuudauce  oi 
good  white  bread.  The  recoUectiou  of  the  situation  in  which 
I  left  my  parents,  would  not  permit  me  to  indulge  myself  by 
eating  any  thing  else." 

The  superintendent  could  not  restrain  his  tears,  at  such  an 
instance  of  filial  love  and  sensibility.  "  Has  not  your  father 
been  in  the  military  service,"  he  inquired.  "  Why,  then, 
litis  ho  ,9a  peubioa  ?/'     ^'  For  want  of  friends  aud  moneys  sir/' 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  Qg 

^•eplied  the  youth.  "  He  waited  upon  the  gOYernment^  seek- 
ing for  a  pension,  until  his  money  became  exhausted  ;  and 
rather  than  contract  debts,  he  is  content  to  languish  in  the 
manner  I  liave  told  you." 

"Well/'  said  the  superintendent,  "'^ii*  the  facts  are  as  you 
have  stated  them,  I  will  be  a  friend  to  your  father.  I  will 
un-dertakti  to  procure  his  pension  for  him.  In  the  mean  time, 
here  are  three  pieces  of  gold  for  yourself,  as  a  present  from 
the  king;  and  I  wiii  send  3^our  father  a  month's  pay  in  ad- 
vance, out  of  the  pension  which  I  am  sure  of  obtaining  for 
him.^' 

'■  Ifow  can  you  send  the  money  to  him?"  asked  the  boy. 
''  jjet  that  give  you  no  uneasiness,"  replied  the  superintendent. 
"'  I  shall  find  a  way."  '-  A.h,  sir,"  said  the  boy  with  eager- 
ness, "if  vou  can  send  it  so  e:isi!v,  will  vou  be  kind  enough 
to  send  him  also  these  three  pieces  of  gold,  wl.dcli  you  wer^ 
so  ^ood  Jis  to  cive  me  ?  Here  I  am  in  want  of  nothiMii;:  and 
they  will  be  of  the  greatest  service  to  my  fafher,  in  assisting 
him  to  provi'le  for  niy  brothers  and  sisters.'' 


T/ie  Battle  of  Blcnheir^. 

It  was  on  a  summer  evening, 

Old  Kaspar's  work  was  done, 
And  he,  before  his  cottage  door, 

Was  sitting  in  the  sun  ; 
And  by  him  spited  on  the  green. 
His  little  grandcnild  Wilhelmine. 

8he  saw  her  brotlier  Peterkin 
Roll  something  large  and  round. 

Which  he  b;siue  the  rivulet, 
In  pi  lying  there,  had  found  ; 

He  came  to  askv/h.jt  he  had  found, 

That  Was  so  laFj^e,  and  saieotb,  and  round. 

Old  Kaspar  took  it  from  (he  boy, 

Who  stood  expectant  by ; 
Aod  then  tJie  old  man  shook  hiH  hcad^ 

And  with  a  natural  sigh, 
"  'Tia  ftome  poor  felIo".r's  skull,"  gaid  he, 
^'  ^Vho  toll  iu  the  great  victory . 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER, 

'<  I  find  them  in  the  garden, 
For  there's  many  here  about ; 

And  often  when  I  go  to  plough, 
The  plouglishave  turns  them  out; 

For  many  thousand  men/'  said  he, 

^'  ^Yere  slain  in  that  great  victory." 

^'Now  tell  us  what  'twas  all  about,'^ 

Young  Peterkin,  he  cries ; 
While  little  Wilhelmine  looks  up, 

With  wonder-waiting  eyes ; 
"  Now  tell  us  all  about  the  war, 
And  what  they  killed  each  other  for/* 

^^  It  was  the  English,"  Kaspar  ciied, 
"  Who  put  the  French  to  rout, 

But  what  they  killed  each  other  for. 
I  could  not  well  make  out. 

But  every  body  said,"  quoth  he,  ■ 

"'That  'twas  a  famous  victory.  " 

"  My  father  lived  at  Blenheim  then, 

Yon  little  stream,  hard  by; 
They  burnt  his  dwelling  to  the  gromidj 

And  he  was  f  jrced  to  fly ; 
So,  v/ith  his  wife  and  child,  he  fled. 
Nor  had  he  where  tciijfest  his  head. 

''With  fire  and  sword,  the  country  round 

Was  wasted,  far  and  wide ; 
And  many  a  nursing  mother  then, 

And  new-born  baby  died ; 
But  things  like  that,  you  know,  must  be 
At  every  famous  victory. 

^^  They  say  it  was  a  shocking  sight 

After  the  field  was  won  ; 
For  many  thousand  bodies  here 

L;iy  rotting  in  the  sun  ; 
But  things  like  that,  you  Ildow^  m^s,t  be 
After  9-  toous  victory, 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  71 

"  Great  praiso  the  Duke  of  Marlbro'  won, 

And  our  young  prinne,  Eugene." 
*' Why,  'twas  a  very  wicked  thing!" 

Said.iiltle  Will'.elmine, 
"Nay,  nay,  my  little  girl,"  quoth  he, 
"It  was  a  famous  victory, 

"And  every  body  praised  the  Duke, 

Who  this  great  tight  did  win." 
"  But  what  good  came  of  it  at  last  ?" 

Quoth  little  Peterkin. 
"'  Why,  that  I  cannot  tell,"  said  he, 
"  But  'twas  a  glorious  victory." 


TJie  Day  of  Judgment. 

When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  the  holy 
angels  vi^ith  him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his 
glory  : 

And  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations;  and  he  shall 
separate  them  one  from  another,  as  a  shepherd  divideth  bis 
sheep  from  the  goats  :  ~ 

Aud  he  ehall  set  the  sheep  on  his  right  hand,  but  the  goats 
on  tlie  left. 

Then  shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  his  right  hand, 
Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  iiiherit  the  kingdom  prepared 
for  you.  from  the  foundation  of  the  world  : 

For  I  was  an  hungered,  and  yc  gave  me  meat:  I  was  thirst}'', 
and  ye  gave  me  drink  :  I  was  u  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in : 

Nuked,  and  ye  clothed  me :  I  was  sick,  aud  ye  visited  me  : 
I  was  in  prison,  aud  ye  came  unto  me. 

Then  shall  the  righteous  answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when 
saw  we  thee  an  hungered,  and  fed  thee?  or  thirsty,  aud  gave 
thee  drink  ? 

When  saw  we  tlico  a  strangcrj  and  took  thee  in?  or  naked, 
and  clothed  thee  ? 

Or  when  saw  we  thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto 
thee  ?  .     . 

Aud  the  Iving  Bha,ll  answer  and  say  uijtQ  tl;cm,  Vorily,  I 


72  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER, 

say  unto  you,  Inasmucli  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  bave  done  it  unto  me. 

Then  shall  he  also  say  unto  them  on  the  left  hand,  Depart 
from  ma,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  th^ 
devil  and  his  angels  : 

For  I  was  an  hungered,  an'^  ye  gave  me  no  meat:  1  was 
thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no  driiik  :  i  was  a  stranger,  and  ye 
took  me  not  in  :  or  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  not:  sick  and 
in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me  not. 

Then  shall  the}'-  also  answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when  saw 
we  tliee  an  hungered,  or  athirst,  or  a  stranger,  or  naked,  or 
sick,  or  in  prison,  aud  did  not  minister  unto  thee  't 

I'hea  shall  he  answer  them,  saying,  Verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
Inasmuch  as  yc  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  did 
it  not  to  mo. 

And  these  shall  go  their  wnj  into  everlaijting  punishment : 
but  the  riiihteous  into  life  eternal. 


21ie  Doomed  Man. 

There  is  a  time,  we  know  not  when^ 
A  point  we  know  not  where, 

T]>at  marks  the  destiny  of  men  ^ 

To  glory  or  despair.  • 

•There  is  a  line,  by  us  unseen, 

That  crosstiS  every  'path  ; 
The  hidden  boundary  between 

G.od's  patience  and  his  wrath. 

To  pass  that  limit  is  to  die, 

To  die  as  if  bysteakh; 
It  does  not  quench  the  beaming  eye, 

Or  pale  the  glow  of  health. 

The  conscience  may  be  still  at  ease, 

The  epirit  Hght  and  g<iy, 
That  which  is  pleasing,  still  vuay  pleai-i^, 

And  uaro  be  thruab  a^s-j. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  Y3 

But  on  that  forehead  God  has  set 

Indelibly  a  mark ; 
Unseen  by  man,  for  man  as  yet, 

Is  blind  and  in  the  dark. 

And  yet  the  doomed  man's  path  below, 

Like*Eden  may  have  bloomed, 
He  did  not,  does  not,  will  not  know,  ^ 

Or  feel  that  he  is  doomed. 

He  knows,  he  feels  that  all  is  well. 

And  every  fear  is  calmed ; 
He  lives,  Le  die^^,  he  wakes  in  hell. 

Not  only  dooiijed,  but  damned. 

0,  where  is  this  mysterious  bourn, 

By  which  our  path  is  crossed ; 
Beyond  which,  God  himself  has  sworn, 

That  he  who  goes,  is  lost ! 

How  far  may  we  go  on  in  sin  ? 

How  long  will  God  forbear? 
Where  does  hope  end,  and  where  begin 

The  confines  of  despair? 

An  answer  from  the  ?;ky  is  sent, 

Ye  tliat  from  God  depart, 
While  it  is  called  to-day  repent, 

And  harden  not  your  heart. 


The  WJusfle. 

"When  I  was  a  child  of  seven  years  old,"  says  Dr.  Frank- 
lin, "  my  friends,  on  a  holyday,  filled  my  pocket  with  half- 
pence. 

"  I  went  directly  towards  a  shop  where  toys  for  children 
were  sold;  and  being  charmed  with  the  sound  of  a  whistle 
that  I  met  by  the  way,  in  the  hands  of  another  boy,  I  volun- 
tarily offered  him  all  my  money  for  it. 


74:  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

"  Thei^  I  came  home,  and  went  whistling  over  the  house, 
much  pleased  with  my  whistle,  but  disturbing  all  *he  family. 
My  brothers,  and  Bisters,  and  cousins,  understanding  the  bar- 
gain I  had  made,  told  me  I  had  given  four  times  as  much  for 
it  as  it  was  worth. 

"This  put  me  in  mind  what  good  things  I  might  have 
bought  with  the  rest  of  m.y  monej,  and  they  laughed  at  mo 
so  much  for  my  folly,  that  1  cried  with  venation.  My  rejec- 
tions on  the  subject  gave  me  more  chagrin,  than  the  whistle 
gave  me  pleasure.  ■• 

''This  little  eventjiiowever,  was  afterwards  of  use  to  me, 
the  impression  continuing  on  my  mind  :  so  that  often,  v;hen 
I  was  tempted  to  buy  some  unnecessary  thing,  I  said  to  my-' 
self,  'Do  not  give  too  much  for  the  whistle;'  and  so  I  saved 
my  money. 

"As  I  grew  up,  came  into  the  world,  and  observed  the 
actions  of  men,  I  thought  I  met  with  m.any,  very  many,  who 
gave  too  much  fur  the  v/histle. 

"  When  I  saw  any  one  too  ambitious  of  couvt-favor,  sacri- 
ficing his  time  in  attendance  on  levees,  his  repose,  his  liberty, 
his  virtue,  and  perhaps  his  friends,  to  attain  it,  I  I..-. re  said  to 
myself,  '  This  rijan  gives  too  much  for  his  whistle.' 

"When  I  saw  another  forid  of  popular! iy,  constanily  cn>- 
ploying  himself  in  political  bustles,  neglecting  his  own  alfairs, 
and  raining  them  by  that  neglect:  'He  pays  indeed,'  said  I, 
'  too  much  for  his  whistle/ 

"  If  I  knew  a  miser,  who  gave  u])  every  kind  cf  comfortable 
living,  all  the  pleasures  of  doing  good  to  others,  all  the  esteem 
of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  the  joys  of  benevolent  friendship, 
for  the  sake  of  accumulating  wealth  :  '  Poor  man  ! '  said  I, 
'  you  indeed  pay  too  much  for  your  whistle/ 

"When  I  met  a  man  of  pleasure,  sacrificing  every  laudcible 
improvement  of  mind,  or  of  fortune,  to  mere  sensual  gratifica- 
tions: 'Mistaken  man,' said  T,  'you  are  providing  pain  for 
yourself,  instead  of  pleasure  :  you  give  too  much  for  your 
whistle/ 

"  If  I  saw  one  fond  of  fine  cloihes,  fine  furniture,  fine 
equipages,  all  above  his  fortune,  for  which  he  contracted 
debts,  and  ended  his  career  in  prison:  'Alas!'  said  I,  '  he 
has  paid  dear,  very  dear,  for  his  whistle.' 

"  In  short,  I  conceived  that  great  part  of  the  miseries  of 
mankind,  were  brought  upon  them  by  th$  false  estimate  they 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  75 

had  made  of  the  value  of  things^  and  t)y  their  giviug  too  much 
for  their  whistles.'^ 


My  Life  in  like  the  Summer  Rose, 

My  life  is  like  the  surumer  rose, 

Wliich  opens  to  the  morning  sky, 
But,  ere  the  shades  of  evening  close, 
Are  scattered  on  the  ground  to  die, 
Yet  on  the  rose's  humble  head 
The  softest  dews  of  night  are  sl'.ed, 
As  though  she  wept  such  waste  to  see — 
But  none  shall  shed  one  tenr  for  me. 

My  life  is  like  the  autumn  leaf, 

That  trembles  in  the  moon's  pale  ray  : 
Its  hold  is  frail,  its  date  is  brief, 

llestless,  and  soon  to  pass  away. 
Yet,  when  that  leaf  shall  fall  and  fade, 
The  parent  tree  shall  mourn  its  shade ; 
The  winds  bewail  the  leafless  J:rec — 
But  none  shall  brentho  one  sigh  for  me. 

My  life  is  like  the  priot  of  feet 

Left  on  I'ampa's  desert  strand  ; 
Soon  as  the  rising  tide  shall  beat, 

All  trace  shall  vanish  from  the  sand. 
Yet,  as  grieving  to  efface  v- 

All  vestige  of  the  human  race, 
On  th'it  lone  shore  loud  moans  the  sea — 
But  none  shall  thus  lament  for  me. 


Jndustrij  Rcicardvd 

A  rich  husbandman  had  two  sons,  the  one  exactly  a  year 
older  than  the  other.  The  very  day  the  second  was  born,  he 
set,  in  the  cutrance  of  his  orchard,  two  young  apple-trees  of 
equal  size,  which  he  euUivated  with  the  same  e-:ue,  and  which 


76  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

grew  so  equally,  that  no  person  could  perceive  the  least  dif- 
ference between  them. 

When  Ills  children  were  capable  of  handling  garden  tools, 
he  took  them,  one  fine  morning  in  spring,  to^ee  these  two 
trees,  which  he  had  planted  for  them,  and  called  after  their 
names;  and  when  they  had  sufficiently  admired  their  growth, 
and  the  number  of  blossoms  that  covered  them,  he  said : 

^'  My  dear  children,  I  give  you  these  trees;  you  see  they 
are  in  good  condition.  They  will  thrive  as  much  by  your 
care,  as  they  will  decline  by  your  negligence;  and  their  fruit 
will  reward  you  in  proportion  to  your  labor.'' 

The  youngest,  named  Edmund,  was  industrious  and  atten- 
tive. He  busied  himself  in  clearing  his  tree  of  insects  that 
would  hurt  it ;  and  he  propped  up  its  stem^  to  prevent  its 
taking  a  wrong  hent. 

He  loosened  the  earth  about  it,  that  the  warmth  of  the  sun, 
and  the  moisture  of  the  dews,  might  cherish  the  roots.  His 
mother  had  not  tended  him  more  carefully  in  his  infancy,  than 
he  tended  his  young"  apple-tree. 

'  His  brother,  Moses, 'did  not  imitate  his  example.  He  spent 
a  great  deal  of  time  on  a  mount  that  was  near,  throwing  stones 
at  the  passengers  in  the  road.  Ho  went  among  all  the  little 
dirty  country  boys  in  the  neighborhood,  to  box  with  them;  so 
that  he  was  often. seen  with  broken  shins  and  black  eyes,  from 
the  kicks  and  blows  he  received  in  his  quarrels. 

In  short,  he  neglected  his  tree  so  far,  that  he  never  thought 
of  it,  till  one  da}'-  in  autumn  he  by  chance  saw  Edmund's  tree 
so  full  of  apples  streaked  with  purple  and  gold,  that  had  it 
not  been  for  the  props  which  supported  its  branches,  the 
weight  of  Its  fruit  must  have  bent  it  to  the  ground. 

Struck  with  the  sight  of  so  fine  a  tree,  he  hastened  to  his 
own,  hoping  to  find  as  large  a  crop  upon  it ;  but,  to  his  great 
surprise,  he  saw  scarcely  any  thing,  except  branchss  covered 
with  moss,  and  a  few  yellow  withered  leaves. 

Full  of  passion  and  jealousy,  he  ran  to  his  father,  and  said  : 
*' Father,  what  sort  of  a  tree  is  that  which  you  have  given  me? 
It  is  as  dry  as  a  broomstick ;  and  I  shall  not  have  ten  apples 
on  it.  My  brother  you  have  used  better  :  bid  him  at  least 
share  his  apples  with  me." 

^' Share  with  you!"  said  his  father;  ^^so  the  industrious 
must  lose  his  labor,  to  feed  the  idle !  Be  satisfied  with  your 
lot :  it  is  the  effect  of  your  negligence ;  and  do  not  think  to 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  77 

accuse  me  of  injustice,  wheu  you  see  your  brother's  rich  crop. 
Your  tree  was  as  fruitful,  and  in  as  good  order  as  his ;  it  bore 
as  many  blossoms,  and  grew  in  the  same  soil,  only  it  was  not 
fostered  with  the  same  care. 

"Edmund  has  kept  his  tree  clear  of  Imrtful  insects;  but, 
you  have  suffered  them  to  eat  up  yours  in  its  blossoms.  As  I 
do  not  choose  to  let  ai>y  thing  which  God  has  given  me,  and 
for  which  I  hold  myself  accountable  to  Him.  go  to  ruin,  I 
shall  take  this  tree  from  you,  and  call  it  no  more  by  your 
name. 

'•  It  must  pass  through  your  brother's  hands,  before  it  can 
recover  itself;  and  from  this  moment,  both  it  and  the  fruit  it 
may  bear  are  his  property.  You  may,  if  you  will,  go  into  my 
nursery,  and  look  for  another,  and  rear  it,  to  make  amends  for 
your  fault;  but  if  you  neglect  it,  that  too  shall  be  given  to 
your  brother,  for  assisting  me  in  my  labor," 

Moses  felt  the  justice  of  his  father's  sentence,  and  the  wis- 
dom of  his  design.  He,  therefore,  went  that  moment  into  the 
nursery,  and  chose  one  of  the  most  thriving  apple-trees  he 
could  find.  Edmund  assisted  him  with  his  advice  in  rearing 
it;  and  Moses  embraced  every  occasion  of  paying  attention 
to  it. 

He  was  now  never  out  of  humor  with  his  comrades,  and 
still  less  with  himself;  for  he  applied  himself  cheerfully  to 
work;  and  in  autumn,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his  tree 
fully  answer  his  hopes.  Thus  he  had  the  double  advantage, 
of  enriching  himself  with  a  splendid  crop  of  fruit,  and  at  the 
same  time  of  subduing  the  vicious  habits  he  had  contracted. 
His  father  was  so  well  pleased  with  this  change,  that  the  fol- 
lowing year  he  divided  the  produce  of  a  small  orchard  between 
him  and  his  brother. 


The  Fall  of  the  Leaf. 

See  the  leaves  around  ye  falling;, 
Dry  and  withered,  to  the  ground, 

Thus  to  thoughtless  mortals  calling, 
In  a  sad  and  solemn  sound : 

*'  Sons  of  Adam,  once  in  Eden, 
Whence  like  us  he  blighted  fell, 


THE  rONFEDKKATE  FIRST  f«^\DEtt. 

Hear  tlic  lecture  we  are  reading, 
'Tis,  alas!  tlie  I  ruth  we  tell." 

♦•  Vlrtc'ins,  mu'-]i,  ton  inucli  ])rcs!iTuing, 
(.)ij  3'our  bo:i.-s!e.l  white  aii'J  "ctl, 

\levf  us,  late  in  hcmty  blooming:;, 
JS'uiiibcr'*i  now  ainunjjr  ihc  dea«l. 


*o 


*'  Gripin;!  misers-,  uiirhtly  waking, 
vSce  the  e:j<l  of  all  vour  cnrc  ; 

Fled  on  winiis  of  our  own  luakiuir, 
We  have  left  our  owners  bare. 

^'  Sons  of  honor,  fed  on  praises, , 

Flutt'riiig  lii^h  in  fancied  worth, 
Lo,  the  fiv-kie  nir  that  raises, 

]3r)'.<)^  n  -  'I.KV'i  to  paront  c;irt,h. 

''Learned  sires,  ia  systems  j:i<led, 
Wiio  for  new  ones  daily  c.ill, 

Oe-»!ie,  at  length,  by  us  persuaded, 
Every  leaf  must  have  s  f;i.ll. 

"  Youth,  yet  rio  losses  grieve  you. 
Gay  in  health  and  many  a  grace, 

Let  not  eloudless  skies  deceive  you, 
Summer  gives  to  Autumn  place. 

•'  On  the  tree  of  life  eternal, 

j\Ian,  let  all  thy  hopes  be  stay'd, 

Which  jilone,  forever  vernal. 

Bears  the  leaves  that  never  fade/' 


Mungo  Paries  Travels  in  Africa. 

I  waited  more  than  two  hours,  without  having  an  oppor- 
tunity of  crossing  the  river ;  during  whicli  time  the  people, 
who  had  crossed,  carried  information  to  Mansong,  the  king, 
that  a  white  man  was  waiting  for  a  passage,  and  was  coming 
to  see  him. 


THE  CONFEDEllA-rE  FIRST  READER.  7^ 

He  immediately  sent  over  one  of  his  chief  meD,  who  in- 
formed me  that  the  king  couM  not  possibly  8ce  me,  until  he 
knew  what  had  brought  me  into  his  countr}^,  and  that  I  must 
not  presume  to  cross  the  river  without  the  king',s  permission, 

lie,  therefore,  advised  me  to  lodge  at  a  distant  vilhige,  to 
wliich  he  pointed,  for  the  night;  and  said  that/in  the  morn- 
ing, ho  wonid  give  me  further  instructions  how  to  conduct 
myself. 

This  was  very  discouraging.  However,  as  there  was  no 
remedy,  I  set  otl"  for  the  village,  where  I  found,  to  my  great 
mortification,  that  no  person  would  admit  me  into  his  house. 

I  was  regarded  with  astonishment  and  fear,  and  was  obliged 
to  sit  all  day,  withuut  victuals,  in  the  shade  of  a  tree;  and  the 
night  threatened  to  be  very  uncomfortable,  for  the  wind  rose 
and  there  was  great  appearance  of  a  heavy  raio  ;  and  the  wild 
beasfs  are  so  very  numerous  in  the  neighborhood,  that  I  should 
have  been  under  the  necessity  of  climbiuig  up  the  tree,  and 
resting  among  the  branches. 

About  sunset,  however,  as  I  was  preparing  to  pass  the 
night  in  this  manner,  and  had  turned  ray  horse  loose  that  he 
might  graze  at  liberty,  a  woman  returning  from  the  labors  of 
the  field,  stopped  to  observe  me,  and  perceiving  that  I  was 
weary  and  dejected,  inquired  into  my  situation,  which  I  briefly 
explained  to  her;  whereupon,  with  looks  of  great  compas- 
sion, she  took  up  my  saddle  and  bridle,  and  told  me  to  follow 
her. 

Having  conducted  me  into  her  hut,  she  lighted  up  a  lamp, 
spread  a  mat  on  the  floor,  and  told  me  I  might  remain  there 
for  the  night.  Finding  that  I  v/as  very  hungry,  she  said  she 
Avould  procure  me  something  to  eat.  She  accordingly  went 
out,  and  returned  in  a  short  time  with  a  very  fine  fish,  which, 
having  caused  to  be  half  broiled  upon  some  embers,  she  gave 
me  for  supper. 

The  rights  of  hospitality  being  thus  performed  tov>'ards  a 
stranger  in  distress,  my  worthy  benefactress,  pointing  to  the 
mat,  and  telling  me  I  might  sleep  there  without  apprehension, 
called  to  the  female  part  of  her  family,  who  had  stood  gazing 
on  me  all  the  while  in  fixed  astonishment,  to  resume  their  task 
of  spinning  cotton,  in  which  they  continued  to  employ  them- 
selvis  great  part  of  the  night. 

They  lightened  their  labors  by  songs,  one  of  which  was 
composed  extempore,  for  I  wjis  myself  the  subject  of  it.     It 


80  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  REAPER. 

was  sunp  by  one  of  the  young  ■women,  the  re?t  joininp:  irt  a 
sort  of  chorus.  The  idr  was  sweet  and  plaintive,  and  the 
\YordF,  htv  rally  tiauslated,  were  those  : 

"  The  wind*  roared  and  the  rains  fell.  Tlio  poor  white 
man,  faint  and  weary,  came  and  sat  under  our  tree.  lie  has 
no  mother  to  brin^  him  milk ;  no  wife  to  grind  him  corn. 
Chorus — Let  us  pity  the  white  man ;  no  mother  has  he  to 
brin^  him  milk  ;  no  wife  to  grind  him  corn." 

Trifling  as  this  recital  muy  appear  to  the  reader,  to  a  person 
in  ray  situation,  the  circumstance  was  affecting  in  the  highest 
degree ;  I  was  oppressed  by  such  unexpected  kindness,  and 
sleep  fled  from  my  eyes.  In  the  morning,  I  presented  my 
compassionate  landlady  with  two  of  the  lour  brass  buttons 
which  remained  on  my  waistcoat,  the  only  recompense  I  could 
make  her. 

The  song  of  the  negroes,  above  related,  has  been  turned 
into  the  following  verses  by  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire: 

The  loud  wind  roar'd,  the  rain  fell  fast; 
The  white  man  yielded  to  the  blast; 
He  sat  him  down  beneath  our  tree, 
For  W'.'ary,  sad,  and  faint  was  he; 
And,  ah  !  no  wife  nor  mother's  c.arc, 
For  him  the  milk  or  corn  prepare. 

CHORUS. 

The  white  man  shall  our  pity  share; 
Alas!  no  wife  nor  mother's  care, 
For  him  the  milk  or  corn  prepare. 

'  The  storm  is  o'er,  the  tempest  past, 
And  Mercy's  Voice  has  hush'd  the  blast: 
The  wind  is  heard  in  whispers  low; 
The  white  man  far  away  must  go; 
l^ut  ever  in  his  heart  will  bear 
llcmembrance  of  the  negro's  care. 

CII0RTJ8. 

Go,  white  man,  go — but  with  thee  bear 
The  negro's  wish,  the  negro's  prayer, 
llemembraace  of  the  negro's  care. 


p 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  81 

The    Wonderful  Chip. 

The  following  narrative,  by  Mr.  Williams,  missionary  to 
Rarotonga,  describes,  in  a  striking  manner,  the  feelings  of  an 
untaught  people,  when  observing  for  the  first  time  the  effects 
of  written  communications. 

"  In  the  erection  of  my  chapel,"  says  he,  "  having  come  to 
the  work  one  morning  without  my  square,  I  picked  up  a.  chip, 
and  with  a  piece  of  charcoal  wrote  upon  it  a  request  that  Mrs. 
Williams  would  send  me  that  article. 

''  I  called  a  chief,  who  was  superintending  a  part  of  the 
work,  and  said  to  him,  ^Friend,  take  this;  go  to  our  house, 
and  give  it  to  Mrs.  Williams.' 

,.  "  He  was  a  singular  looking  man,  remarkably  quick  in  his 
movements,  and  had  been  a  great  warrior ;  but,  in  one  of  the 
numerous  battles  he  had  fought,  he  had  lost  an  eye;  and, 
giving  me  an  inexpressible  look  with  the  other,  he  said : 
'  Take  that  I  She  will  call  me  a  fool,  and  scold  me,  if  I  carry 
a  chip  to  her.'  ^No,'  1  replied,  ^she  will  not;  take  it  and 
go  immediately ;  I  am  in  haste.' 

"  Perceiving  me  to  be  in  earnest,  he  took  it,  and  asked, 
'  What  must  I  say  ?'  I  replied,  *  You  have  nothing  to  say ; 
the  chip  will  say  all  I  wish.' 

'^  With  a  look  of  astonishment  and  contempt,  he  held  up  the 
piece  of  wood,  and  said,  '  How  can  this  speak  ?  Has  this  a 
mouth  V  I  desired  him  to  take  it  immediately,  and  not  spend 
so  much  time  talking  about  it. 

"  On  arriving  at  the  house,  he  gave  the  chip  to  Mrs.  Wil- 
liams, who  read  it,  threw  it  away,  and  went  to  the  tool  chest. 
The  chief,  resolved  to  see  the  result  of  this  mysterious  pro- 
ceeding, followed  her  closely.  On  receiving  the  square  from 
her,  he  said,  'Stay,  daughter;  how  do  you  know  that  this  is 
what  Mr.  Williams  wants?' 

'"•Why,'  she  replied,  ^did  you  not  bring  me  a  chip  just 
now?'  ^  Yes,' said  the  astonished  warrior,  'but  I  did  not 
hear  it  say  anything.'  '  If  you  did  not,  I  did,'  was  the  reply, 
'  for  it  made  known  to  me  what  he  wanted ;  and  all  you  have 
to  do  is  to  return  with  it  as  quickly  as  possible.' 

*'  With  this  the  chief  leaped  out  of  the  house,  and,  catching 
up  the  mysterious  piece  of  wood,  he  ran  through  the  settle- 
ment with  the  chip  in  one  hand,  and  the  square  in  the  other, 
holding  them  up  as  high  as  his  bauds  would  reach,  and  shout- 
6 


82  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

ing  as  lie  went,  ^  See  the  wisdom  of  these  English  people ! 
They  can  make  chips  talk !     They  can  make  chips  talk '/ 

"  On  giving  me  the  square,  he  wished  to  know  how  it  was 
possible  thus  to  converse  with  persons  at  a  distance.  I  gave 
him  all  the  explanation  in  my  power ;  but  it  was  a  circum- 
stance involved  in  so  much  mystery,  that  he  actually  tied  a 
string  to  the  chip,  hung  it  around  his  neck,  and  wore  it  for 
some  time. 

"  During  several  days,  we  frequently  saw  him,  surrounded 
by  a  crowd,  who  were  listening  with  intense  interest,  while  he 
narrated  the  wonders  the  chip  had  performed.'' 


A  Pleasant  Surprise. 

A  young  man  of  eighteen  or  twenty,  a  student  in  a  univer- 
sity, took  a  walk  one  day  with  a  professor,  who  was  commonly 
called  the  student's  friend,  such  was  his  kindness  to  the  young 
men  whom  it  was  his  ♦ffice  to  instruct.  While  they  were 
walking  together,  and  the  professor  was  seeking  to  lead  the 
conversation  to  grave  subjects,  they  saw  a  pair  of  tld  shoes 
lying  in  their  path,  which  they  supposed  to  belong  to  a  poor 
man  who  was  at  work  close  by,  and  who  had  nearly  finished 
his  day's  task. 

The  young  sj;udent  turned  to  the  professor,  saying,  *•  Let  us 
play  the  man  a  trick;  we  will  hide  his  shoes,  and  conceal  our- 
selves behind  those  bushes,  and  watch  his  perplexity  when  he 
cannot  find  them."  "  My  dear  friend,"  answered  the  profes- 
sor, ^'we  must  never  amuse  ourselves  at  the  expense  of  the 
poor.  But  you  are  rich,  and  you  may  give  yourself  a  much 
greater  pleasure  by  means  of  this  poor  man.  Put  a  dollar  into 
each  shoe,  and  then  we  will  hide  ourselves." 

The  student  did  so,  and  then  placed  himself,  with  the  pro- 
fessor, behind  the  bushes  close  by,  through  which  they  could 
easily  watch  the  laborer,  and  see  whatever  wonder  or  joy  he 
might  express.  The  poor  man  soon  finished  his  woi-k,  and 
came  across  the  field  to  the  path,  where  he  had  left  his  coat 
and  shoes.  While  he  put  on  the  coat,  he  slipped  one  fott 
into  one  of  his  shoes;  but,  feeling  something  hard,  he  stooped 
down  and  found  the  iollftr.  Astonishment  and  wonder  were 
seen  upon  his  countenftnce.     He  gazed  upon  the  dollar,  turned 


THE  CONFEDERATB  FIRST  READER.  83 

it  around,  and  look«d  again  and  again ;  then  he  looked  around 
him  on  all  sides,  but  could  see  no  one. 

He  put  the  money  in  his  pocket,  and  then  proceeded  to  put 
on  the  other  shoe ;  but  how  great  his  surprise  when  he  found 
the  other  dollar !  His  feelings  overcame  him.  He  saw  that 
the  money  was  a  present,  and  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  looked 
up  to  heaven,  and  uttered  aloud  a  fervent  thanksgivinj:;,  in 
which  he  spoke  of  his  wife  sick  and  helpless,  and  his  children 
without  bread,  whom  this  timely  bounty  from  some  unknown 
hand,  would  save  from  perishing. 

The  young  man  was  deeply  affected,  and  tears  filled  his 
eyes.  "  Now,"  said  the  professor,  "  are  you  not  much  better 
pleased  than  if  you  had  played  your  intended  trick  ?"  "  O, 
dearest  sir,"  answered  the  youth,  ''you  have  taught  me  a 
lesson  that  I  will  never  forget !  I  feel  now  the  truth  of  the 
words,  which  I  never  before  underitood,  ^  It  is  better  to  give 
than  to  receive.'  We  should  never  approach  the  poor  but 
with  the  wish  to  do  th§m  good." 


The  Spider  and  iht  Fly.—A  Fahlt. 

"  Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor  ?  "  said  a  spider  to  a  fly ; 

''  ^Tis  the  prettiest  little  parlor  that  ever  you  did  spy. 

The  way  into  my  parlor  is  up  a  winding  stair, 

And  I  .have  many  pretty  thiigs  to  show  you  when  you  are 

there." 
"  Oh  no,  no,"  said  the  little  fly,  "  to  ask  me  is  in  vain, 
For  who  goes  up  your  winding  stair  can  ne'er  come  down 

again." 

"  I'm  sure  you  miist  be  weary  with  soaring  up  so  high ; 
Will  you  rest  upon  my  little  bed  ?  "  said  the  spider  to  the  fly, 
''There  are  pretty  curtains  drawn  around,  the  sheets  are  fine 

and  thin  ; 
And  if  you  like  to  rest  awhile,  I'll  snugly  tuck  you  in." 
"  Oh  no,  no,"  said  the  little  fly,  "for  I've  often  heard  it  said, 
Th«y  never,  never,  wake  again^  who  sleep  upon  your  bed." 

Said  the  cunning  spider  to  the  fly,  "  Dear  friend,  what  ihall 

I  do. 
To  prove  th«  warm  aflftctiou  I  hart  always  felt  for  you  ? 


g4r  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

I  have  within  my  pantry,  good  store  of  all  that's  nice ; 
I'm  sure  you're  very  welcome;  will  you  please  to  take  a  slice?" 
"  Oh  no,  no,"  said  the  little  fly;  *'  kind  sir,  that  cannot  be; 
I  have  heard  what's  in  your  pantry,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  see." 

"Sweet  creature,"  said  the  spider,  "you're  witty  and  you're 

wise, 
How  handsome  are  your  gauzy  wings,  how  brilliant  are  your 

eyes ! 
I  have  a  little  looking-glass,  upon  my  parlor  shelf. 
If  you'll  step  in  one  moment,  dear,  you  shall  behold  yourself." 
"  I  thank  you,  gentle  sir,"  she  said,  "  for  what  you  are  pleased 

to  say ; 
And  bidding  you  good  morning  now,  I'll  call  another  day.'^ 

The  spider  turned  him  round  about,  and  went  into  his  den, 

For  well  he  knew  the  silly  fly  would  soon  be  back  again. 

So  he  wove  a  secret  web,  in  a  little  corner  sly, 

And  set  his  table  ready  to  dine  upon  the  fly. 

Then  he  went  out  to  his  door  again,  and  merrily  did  sing, 

"  Come  hither,  hither,  pretty  fly,  with  the  pearl  and  silver  wing : 

Your  robes  are  green  and  purple ;  there's  a  crest  upon  your 

head ; 
Your  eyes  are  like  the  diamond  bright,  but  mine  are  dull  as 

lead." 

Alas,  alas !  how  very  soon  this  silly  little  fly. 

Hearing  his  wily,  flattering  words,  came  slowly  flitting  by ; 

With  buzzing  wings  she  hung  aloft ;  then  near  and  nearer 

drew, 
Thinking  only  of  her  brilliant  eyes,  and  green  and  purple 

hue;. 
Thinking  only  of  her  crested  head — poor  foolish  thing!     At 

last; 
Up  jumped  the  cunning  spider,  and  fiercely  held  her  fast! 

He  dragged  her  up  his  winding  stair,  into  his  dismal  den, 
Within  his  little  parlor ;  but  she  never  came  out  again ! 
And  now  my  dear  young  friends,  who  may  this  story  read. 
To  idle,  silly,  flattering  words,  I  pray  you  ne'er  give  heed ; 
Unto  an  evil  counsellor,  close  hearty  and  ear,  and  eye, 
And  take  a  lesson  from  the  tale  of  the  Spider  and  the  Fly-. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  8$ 

The  Lion. 

The  lion  is  a  native  of  the  warmest  climates.  He  is  found 
in  the  greatest  numbers  in  the  desolate  regions  of  the  torrid 
zone,  and  in  all  the  interior  parts  of  the  vast  continent  of 
Africa,  and  the  hottest  parts  of  Asia. 

In  those  desert  regions,  whence  mankind  are  driven  by 
the  rigorous  heat  of  the  climate,  this  animal  reigns  sole 
master.  His  disposition  seems  to  partake  of  the  ardor  of  his 
native  soil.  Inflamed  by  the  influence  of  a  burning  sun,  his 
rage  is  most  terrible,  and  his  courage  undaunted. 

From  many  accounts,  we  are  assured,  that,  powerful  and 
terrible  as  this  animal  appears,  his  anger  is  noble,  his  courage 
magnanimous,  and  his  temper  susceptible  of  grateful  impres- 
sions. 

The  lion  has  often  been  seen  to  despise  weak  and  contemp- 
tihle  enemies,  and  even  to  disregard  their  insults,  when  it  was 
in  his  power  to  punish  them. 

Pie  has  been  known  to  spare  the  life  of  an  animal  which 
was  thrown  into  his  den  to  be  devoured  by  him,  to  live  in 
habits  of  perfect  cordiality  with  it,  to  suff"er  it  to  partake  of 
his  subsistence,  and  even  to  give  it  a  preference  when  his 
portion  of  food  was  scanty. 

A  tie  form  of  the  lion  is  strikingly  bold  and  majestic.  His 
large  and  shaggy  mane,  which  he  can  erect  at  pleasure,  sur- 
rounding his  awful  front;  his  huge  eye-brows;  his  round  and 
fiery  eye-balls,  which,  upon  the  least  irritation,  seem  to  glow 
with  peculiar  lustre;  together  with  the  formidable  appearance 
of  his  teeth,  exhibit  a  picture  of  terrific  grandeur,  which  is 
difficult  to  be  expressed. 

The  length  of  the  largest  lion  is  between  eight  and  nine 
feet;  the  tail  about  four;  and  his  height  about  four  feet  and 
a  half.  The  female  is  about  one-fourth  part  less,  and  without 
a  mane, 
r  The  roaring  of  the  lion  is  loud  and  dreadful.  When  heard 
in  the  night,  it  resembles  distant  thunder.  His  cry  of  anger 
is  much  shriller  and  shorter. 

The  lion  ;?eldom  attacks  any  animal  openly,  except  when 

impelled  by  extreme  hunger ;  and  in  that  case,  no  danger  de- 

i     ters  him.     But,  as  most  animals  endeavor  to  avoid  him,  he  is 

I    obliged  to  have  recourse  to  artifice^  and  take  his  prey  by  sur« 

ft  prise. 

I 


80  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  RUDER. 

For  this  purpose,  he  crouches  in  suuie  thicket,  where  he 
waits  till  his  prey  approaches ;  and  then,  with  a  prodigious 
spring,  he  leaps  upon  it  like  a  cat,  and  generally  seizes  it  at 
the  first  bound. 

His  lurking  places  are  generally  near  a  spring,  or  by  the 
side  of  a  river,  where  he  has  frequently  an  opportunity  of 
catching  such  animals  as  come  to  quench  their  thirst. 

As  a  proof  that  the  lion  is  capable  of  exercising  a  generous 
and  friendly  disposition  towards  mankind,  and  especially  to- 
wards his  keeper,  we  have  the  following  account  of  an  inci- 
dent which  happened  in  Paris  in  the  year  1799. 

Citizen  Felix,  who  kept  two  lions,  a  male  and  a  female^  in  the 
national  menagerie,  was  taken  ill,  and  could  no  longer  attend 
to  feed  them,  but  another  person  was  obliged  to  do  his  office. 

The  lion  appeared  sad  and  solitary;  and  remained  from  that 
time  constantly  seated  at  the  end  of  the  jcage,  and  refused  to 
receive  anything  from  the  stranger. 

His  presence  was  hateful  to  him;  and  he  menaced  him  bj 
bellowing.  The  company  even  of  the  female  seemed  to  dis- 
please him,  and  he  paid  little  or  no  attention  to  her.  The 
uneasiness  of  the  animal  afforded  a  belief  that  he  was  really 
ill,  but  no  one  durst  approach  him. 

At  length  Felix  recovered  of  his  illness,  and  intending  to 
surprise  the  lion,  he  went  softly  to  the  cage,  and  showed  the 
lion  only  his  face  against  the  bars.  As  soon  as  the  lion  disCTr:- 
ered  him,  he  leaped  against  the  side  of  the  cage,  patted  Felix 
with  his  paws,  licked  his  hands  and  face,  and  seemed  to  trem- 
ble with  pleasure. 

The  female  also  ran  to  him,  but  the  lion  drove  her  back, 
seemed  angry,  and  fearful  she  should  snatch  any  favors  from 
Felix  A  quarrel  seemed  about  to  take  place  between  them, 
but  Felix  entered  the  cage  to  pacify  them,  and  caressed  them 
by  turns. 

Felix  has  frequently  been  seen  in  the  midst  of  this  formi- 
dable couple,  whose  power  he  has  fettered  by  kindness.  If 
he  wishes  that  they  should  separate  and  retire  to  their  respec- 
tive cages,  he  has  only  to  speak  a  word,  and  they  obey. 

If  he  wishes  that  they  should  lie  down,  and  show  strangers 
their  paws,  armed  with  frightful  claws,  and  their  throats  full 
of  tremendous  teeth,  at  his  command  they  lie  on  their  backs, 
hold  up  their  paws  one  afttr  another,  and  open  their  mouths: 
and  as  a  recompense,  obtain  the  favor  of  licking  his  hand. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  $7 

These  two  animals,  at  the  time  of  this  incident,  were  said 
to  be  five  years  and  a  half  old,  of  a  strong  breed,  both  of  the 
same  lioness,  and  have  always  lived  together. 


%. 


The  Cuckoo. 

Hail,  beauteous  stranger  of  the  grove, 

Thou  messenger  of  Spring ! 
Now  Heaven  repairs  thy  rural  seat, 

And  woods  thy  welcome  sing. 

What  time  the  daisy  decks  the  green, 

Thy  certain  voice  we  hear. 
Hast  thou  a  star  to  guide  thy  path. 

Or  mark  the  rolling  year  ? 

Delfghtful  visitant,  with  thee 

I  hail  the  time  of  flowers. 
And  hear  the  sound  of  music  sweet. 

From  birds  among  the  bowers. 

The  school-boy  wandering  through  the  wood, 

To  pull  the  flowers  so  gay. 
Starts  the  new  voice  of  Spring  to  hear. 

And  imitates  thy  lay. 

What  time  the  pea  puts  on  the  bloom. 

Thou  flyest  the  vocal  vale ; 
An  annual  guest  in  other  lands. 

Another  Spring  to  hail. 

Sweet  bird,  thy  bower  is  ever  green, 

Thy  sky  is  ever  clear; 
Thou  hast  no  sorrow  in  thy  song. 

No  winter  in  thy  year  I 

Oh,  could  I  fly,  I'd  fly  with  thee ; 

We'd  make  with  joyful  wing. 
Our  annual  visit  o'er  the  globe. 

Companions  of  the  Spring. 


88  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

The  Chinese  Prisoner. 

A  certain  emperor  of  China,  ou  his  accession  to  the  throne 
of  his  ancestors,  commanded  a  general  release  of  all  those  who 
were  confined  in  prison  for  debt-  Among  that  number,  was 
an  old  man,  who  had  fallen  an  eariy  victim  to  adyersitj,  and 
whose  days  of  imprisonment,  reckoned  by  the  notches  he  had 
cut  on  the  door  of  his  gloomy  cell,  expressed  the  annual  cir- 
cuit of  more  than  fifty  suns. 

With  trembling  hands  and  faltering  steps,  he  departed  from 
his  mansion  of  soitow;  his  eyes  were  dazzled  with  the  splen- 
dor of  light,  and  the  face  of  nature  presented  to  his  view  a 
perfect  paradise.  The  jail  in  which  he  had  been  imprisoned 
stood  at  some  distance  from  Pekin,  and  to  that 'city  he  directed 
his  course,  impatient  to  enjoy  the  caresses  of  his  wife,  his 
children,  and  his  friends. 

Having  with  difficulty  found  his  way  to  the  street  in  which 
his  decent  mansion  had  formerly  stood,  his  heart  became  more 
and  more  elated  at  every  step  he  advanced.  With  joy  he 
proceeded,  looking  eagerly  around ;  but  he  observed  few  of 
the  objects  with  which  he  had  been  formerly  conversant.  A 
magnificent  edifice  was  erected  on  the  site  of  the  house  which 
he  had  inhabited  ;  the  dwellings  of  his  neighbors  had  assumed 
a  new  form  ;  and  he  beheld  not  a  sinsrle  face  of  which  he  had 
the  least  remembrance. 

An  aged  beggar,  who,  with  trembling  limbs,  stood  at  the 
gate  of  an  ancient  portico,  from  which  he  had  been  thrust  by 
the  insolent  domestic  who  guarded  it,  struck  his  attention. 
He  stopped,  therefore,  to  give  him  a  small  pittance  out  of  the 
amount  of  the  bounty  with  which  he  had  been  supplied  by 
the  emperor,  and  received,  in  return,  the  sad  tidings  that  his 
wife  had  fallen  a  lingering  sacrifice  to  penury  and  sorrow ; 
that  his  children  were  gone  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  distant 
or  unknown  climes  j  and  that  the  grave  contained  his  nearest 
and  most  valued  friends. 

Overwhelmed  with  anguish,  he  hastened  to  the  palace  of 
his  sovereign,  into  whose  presence  his  hoary  locks  and  mournful 
visage  soon  obtained  him  admission  3  and,  casting  himself  at 
the  feet  of  the  emperor,  '^  Great  Prince,''  he  cried,  ^^  send  me 
back  to  that  prison  from  which  mistaken  mercy  has  delivered 
me  !  I  have  survived  my  family  and  friends,  and  even  in  the 
midst  of  this  populous  city,  I  find  myself  in  a  dreary  solitude. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  gg 

The  cell  of  my  dungeon  protected  me  from  the  gazers  at  my 
wretchedness,  and  whilst  secluded  from  society,  I  was  the  less 
sensible  of  the  loss  of  its  enjoyments.  I  am  now  tortured 
with  the  view  of  pleasure  in  which  T  cannot  participate ;  and 
die  with  thirst,  though  streams  of  delight  surround  me." 


Siffns  of  Rain. 

The  hollow  wind  begins  to  blow;     ^ 
The  clouds  look  black ;  the  glass  is  low ; 
The  soot  falls  down ;  the  spaniels  sleep ; 
And  spiders  from  their  cobwebs  peep. 

Hark  !  how  the  chairs  and  tables  crack  ! 
Old  Betty's  joints  are  on  the  rack ; 
Loud  quack  the  dticks;  the  peacocks  cry; 
The  distant  hills  are  seeming  nigh. 

How  restless  are  the  snorting  swine  ! 
The  busy  flies  disturb  the  kine ; 
Low  o'er  the  grass  the  swallow  wings ; 
The  cricket,  too,  how  sharp  he  sings  ! 

Puss  on  the  hearth,  with  velvet  paws, 
Sits  wiping  o'er  her  whiskered  jaws. 
'Twill  surely  rain  :  T  see,  with  sorrow, 
Our  jaunt  must  be  put  off  to-morrow. 


Heroism  of  a  Peasant. 

A  great  inundation  having  taken  place  in  the  north  of  Italy, 
caused  by  an  excessive  fall  of  gnqw  on  the  Alps,  followed  by 
a  speedy  thaw,  the  river  Adige  carried  off  a  bridge  near 
Verona,  except  the  middle  part  of  it,  on  which  was  the  house 
of  the  toll-gatherer  or  porter,  who,  with  his  family,  thus  re- 
mained imprisoned  by  the  waves,  and  in  momentary  danger 
of  destruction. 

They  were  discovered  from  the  banks,  stretching  forth  their 
hands,  screaming  and  imploring  succor,  while  fragments  of 
the  remaining  arch  continually  dropped  into  the  water. 


90  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

In  this  danger,  a  nobleman,  who  was  present,  held  ont  a 
purse  of  one  hundred  sequins,  as  a  reward  to  any  adventurer, 
who  would  take  a  boat  and  deliver  this  unhappy  family. 

But  the  risk  of  being  borne  down  by  the  rapidity  of  the 
stream,  of  being  dashed  against  the  fragments  of  the  bridge, 
or  of  being  crushed  by  the  falling  stones,  was  so  great,  that 
not  one  of  the  vast  numbers  of  spectators  had  courage  enough 
to  attempt  such  an  enterprise. 

A  peasant,  who  was  passing  along  at  this  juncture,  being 
informed  of  the  proposed  reward,  immediately  jumped  into  a 
boat,  and  by  strength  of  oars  gained  the  middle  of  the  river, 
and  brought  his  boat  under  the  pile,  where  the  whole  family 
descended  into  it  by  means  of  a  rope. 

"Courage  !"  exclaimed  he,  "now  you  are  safe."  By  a  still 
more  strenuous  effort,  and  great  strength  of  arm,  through  Di- 
vine Providence,  he  brought  the  boat  and  family  safe  to  shore. 

"  Brave  fellow,"  exclaimed  the  nobleman,  handing  the  purse 
to  him,  "  here  is  the  promised  recompense." 

"  I  shall  never  expose  my  life  for  money,^'  replied  the 
peasant.  "  My  labor  is  sufiicient  to  procure  a  livelihood  for 
myself,  my  wife  and  children;  give  the  purse  to  this  poor 
family,  who  have  lost  all." 


The  Meeting  of  the  Waters. 

There  is  not  in  the  wide  world,  a  valley  so  sweet, 
As  that  vale  in  whose  bosom  ih.Q  bright  waters  meet. 
O,  the  last  rays  of  feehng  and  life  must  depart, 
Ere  the  bloom  of  that  valley  shall  fade  from  my  heart. 

Yet  it  was  not  that  nature  had  ^hed  o'er  the  scene, 
Her  purest  of  crystal  and  brightest  of  green ; 
'Twas  not  her  soft  magic  of  streamlet  or  hill ; 
O,  no ! — it  was  something  more  exquisite  still. 

'Twas  that  friends,  the  beloved  of  my  bosom,  were  near, 
Who  made  every  dear  scene  of  enchantment  more  dtar ; 
And  who  felt  how  the  best  charms  of  nature  improve, 
When  we  see  them  reflected  from  looks  that  we  love. 


THE  CONFEDBRATK  FIRST  READER.  9;^ 

Sweet  vale  of  Avoca  !  how  calm  could  I  rest' 
Iq  thy  bosom  of  shade,  with  the  friends  1  love  best ! 
Where  the  storms  that  we  feel  in  this  cold  world  should  cease, 
And  our  hearts,  like  thy  waters,  be  mingled  in  peace. 


The  Resurrection  and  Ascension  of  Christ. 

Now  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week,  very  early  in  the 
morning,  they  came  unto  the  sepulchre,  bringing  the  spices 
which  they  had  prepared,  and  certain  others  with  them. 

And  they  found  the  stone  rolled  away  from  the  sepulchre; 

And  they  entered  in,*and  found  not  the  body  of  the  Lord 
Jesus. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  were  much  perplexed  there- 
about, behold,  two  men  stood  by  them  in  shining  garments : 

And  as  they  were  afraid,  and  bowed  down  their  faces  to  the 
earth,  they  said  unto  them,  Why  seek  ye  the  living  among 
the  dead  ? 

He  is  not  here,  but  is  risen  :  remember  how  he  spake  unto 
you  when  he  was  yet  in  Galilee, 

Saying,  the  Son  of  Man  must  be  delivered  into  the  hands 
of  sinful  men,  and  be  crucified,  and  the  third  day  rise  again. 

And  they  remembered  his  words. 

And  returned  from  the  sepulchre,  and  told  all  these  things 
unto  the  eleven,  and  to  all  the  rest. 

It  was  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Joanna,  and  Mary  the  mother 
of  James,  and  other  women  that  were  with  them,  who  told 
these  things  unto  the  apostles. 

And  their  words  seemed  to  them  as  idle  tales,  and  they 
believed  them  not. 

Then  arose  Peter,  and  ran  unto  the  sepulchre ;  and  stooping 
down,  he  beheld  the  linen  clothes  laid  by  themselves,  and  de- 
parted, wondering  in  himself  at  that  which  was  come  to  pass. 

And,  behold,  two  of  them  went  that  same  day  to  a  village 
called  Emmaus,  which  was  from  Jerusalem  .about  threescore 
furlongs. 

And  they  talked  together  of  all  these  things  which  had 
happened. 

And  it  came  to  past,  that,  while  they  communed  together 
and  reasoned,  Jesus  himself  drew  near,  and  went  with  them. 


92  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

But  their  eyes  were  holden  tliat  they  should  not  know  him. 

And  they  drew  nigh  unto  the  village  whither  they  went : 
and  he  made  as  though  he  would  have  gone  further. 

But  they  constrained  him,  saying,  Abide  with  us  :  for  it  is 
toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent.  And  he  went  in  to 
tarry  with  them. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  sat  at  meat  with  them,  he  took 
bread,  and  blessed  it,  and  brake,  and  gave  to  them. 

And  their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  knew  him ;  and  he 
vanished  out  of  their  sight. 

And  they  said  one  to  another,  Did  not  our  heart  burn 
within  us,  while  he  talked  with  us  by  the  way,  and  while  he 
opened  to  us  the  Scriptures? 

And  they  rose  the  same  hour,  and  returned  to  Jerusalem, 
and  found  the  eleven  gathered  together,  and  them  that  were 
with  them, 

Saying,  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed,  and  hath  appeared  to 
Simon. 

And  they  told  what  things  were  done  on  the  way,  and  how 
he  was  known  of  them  in  breaking  of  bread. 

And  as  they  thus  spake,  Jesus  himself  stood  in  the  midst 
of  them,  and  saith  unto  them,  Peace  be  unto  you. 

But  they  were  terri£ed  and  affrighted,  and  supposed  they 
had  seen  a  spirit. 

And  he  said  unto  them,  Why  are  ye  troubled  ?  and  why  do 
thoughts  arise  in  your  hearts  ? 

Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet,  that  it  is  I  myself :  handle 
me  and  see ;  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh  and  bones,  as  ye  see 
me  have. 

And  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  showed  them  his  hands 
and  his  feet. 

And  while  they  yet  believed  not  for  joy,  and  wondered,  he 
■aid  unto  them,  Have  ye  here  any  meat  ? 

And  they  gave  him  a  piece  of  a  broiled  fish,  and  of  a 
honeycomb. 

And  he  took  it,  and  did  eat  before  them, 

And  he  led  them  out  as  far  as  Bethany;  and  he  lifted  up 
his  hands  and  blessed  them. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  while  he  blessed  them,  he  was  parted 
from  them,  and  carried  up  into  heaven. 

And  while  they  looked  steadfastly  toward  heaven,  as  he 
went  up,  behold,  two  men  stood  by  them  in  white  apparel, 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  93 

Who  also  said,  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up 
into  heaven  ?  This  same  Jesus  who  is  taken  up  from  you 
into  heaven,  shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  him 
go  into  heaven.  • 


JSfot  Ashamed  oj  Jesses. 

Jesus  !  and  shall  it  ever  be, 
A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  thee  ? 
Ashamed  of  thee,  whom  angels  praise, 
Whose  glories  shine  through  endless  days  ? 

Ashamed  of  Jesus  !  sooner  far 
Let  evening  blush  to  own  her  star :  ^ 

He  sheds  the  beams  of  Light  Divine, 
O'er  this  benighted  soul  of  mine. 

Ashamed  of  Jesus  I  just  as  soon, 
Let  midnight  be  ashamed  of  noon ; 
Tis  midnight  with  my  soul  till  he. 
Bright  Morning  Star,  bid  darkness  flee ! 

Ashamed  of  Jesus  !  that  dear  Friend, 
On  whom  my  hopes  of  heaven  depend  ? 
No  :  when  I  blush,  be  this  my  shame, 
That  I  no  more  revere  his  name. 

Ashamed  of  J«sus  !  yes  I  may. 
When  I've  no  guilt  to  wash  away; 
No  tears  to  wipe,  no  good  to  crave, 
No  feara  to  quell,  no  soul  to  save. 

Till  then, — nor  is  my  boasting  vain, 
Till  then  V\\  boast  a  Saviour  slain. 
And  Oh  !  may  this  my  glory  be, 
My  Saviour  not  ashamed  of  me ! 


Ninetieth  Psalm. 

Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place  in  all  genera- 
tions. 


94  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

Before  the  mountains  were  brouglit  forth,  or  ever  thou 
hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting,  thou  art  God. 

Thou  turnest  man, to  destruction;  and  sayest  Return  ye 
children  of  men. 

For  a  thousand  years  in  thy  sight,  are  but  as  yesterday  when 
it  is  past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the  night. 

Thou  carriest  them  away  as  with  a  flood;  they  are  as  a  sleep : 
in  the  morning  they  are  like  grass  which  groweth  up. 

In  the  morning  it  ilourishetli,  and  groFeth  up  ;  in  the  even- 
ing it  is  cut  down,  and  withereth. 

For  we  are  consumed  by  thine  angerj  and  by  thy  wrath  are 
we  troubled. 

Thou  hast  set  our  iniquities*  before  thee,  our  secret  sins  in 
the  light  of  yiy  countenance.        '  -  » 

For  all  our  days  are  passed  away  in  thy  wrath ;  we  spend 
our  years  as  a  tale  that  is  told. 

The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore  years  and  ten ;  and  if 
by  reason  of  strength  they  be  fourscore  years,  j^et  is  their 
strength  labor  and  sorrow :  for  it  is  soon  cut  off,  and  we  fly 
away. 

Who  knoweth  the  power  of  thine  anger  ?  even  according  to 
thy  fear,  so  is  thy  wrath. 

So  teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom. 

Keturn  0  Lord,  how  long  ?  and  let  it  repent  thee  concern- 
ing thy  servants. 

0  satisfy  us  .early  with  thy  mercy;  that  we  may  rejoice  and 
be  glad  all  our  days. 

Make  us  glad  according  to  the  days  wherein  thou  hast 
afilic.ted  us,  and  the  years  wherein  we  have  seen  evil. 

Let  thy  work  appear  unto  thy  servants,  and  thy  glory  unto 
their  children.  * 

And  let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  Grod  be  upon  us  :  and 
establish  thou  the  work  of  our  hands  upon  us;  yea,  the  work 
of  our  hands  establish  thou  it. 


Destruction  of  Sennacherib. 

The  Assyrian  came  down,  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold, 
And  his  cohorts  were  gleaming  in  purple  and  gold ; 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  95 

And  the  sheen'of  their  spears  was  like  stars  on  the  sea, 
When  the  blue  wave  rolls  nightly  on  deep  Galilee. 

Like  the  leaves  of  the  forest  when  Summer  is  green, 
That  host,  with  their  banners,  at  sunset  was  seen  : 
Like  the  leaves  of  the  forest  when  Autumn  hath  blown, 
That  host,  on  the  morrow,  la}^  withered  and  atrown. 

For  the  angel  of  death  spread  his  wings  on  the  blast, 
And  breathed  in  the  face  of  the  foe  as  he  passed ; 
And  the  eyes  of  the  sleepers  waxed  deadly  and  chill. 
And  their  hearts  but  once  heaved,  and  forever  grew  still. 

And  there  lay  the  steed,  with  his  nostril  all  wide, 
But  through  it  there  rolled  not  the  breath  of  his  pride  : 
And  the  foam  of  his  gasping  lay  white  on  the  turf. 
And  cold  as  the  spray  of  the  rock-beating  surf. 

And  there  lay  the  rider,  distorted  and  pale. 
With  the  dew  on  his  brow,  and  the  rust  on  his  mail ; 
And  the  tents  were  all  silent,  the  banners  alone, 
The  lances  unlifted,  the  trumpet  unblown. 

And  the  widows  of  Ashur,  are  loud  in  their  wail, 
And  the  idols  ^are  broke  in  the  temple  of  Biial ; 
And  the  might  of  the  Gentile,  unsmote  by  the  sword, 
Hath  melted  like  snow,  in  the  fi^lanee  of  the  Lord  ! 


Abraham^s  Pica  in  hehalf  of  Sodom. 

And  the  men  rose  up  from  thence,  and  looked  toward  So- 
dom:  And  Abraham  went  with  them  to  bring  them  on  the 
way. 

And  the  Lord  said,  Because  the  cry  of  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah is  great,  and  because  their  sin  is  very  grievous ; 

I  will  go  down  now,  and  see  whether  they  have  done  alto- 
gether according  to  the  cry  of  it,  which  is  come  unto  me; 
and  if  not,  I  will  know. 

And  the  men  turned  their  faces  from  thence,  and  went  to- 
ward Sodom  :  but  Abraham  stood  yet  before  the  Lord. 

And  Abrtham  drew  near,  and  said,  Wilt  thou  also  destroy 
the  righteous  with  the  wicked  ? 


96  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

Peradventure  there  be  fifty  righteous  within  the  city :  wilt 
thou  also  destroy  and  not  spare  the  place  for  the  fifty  right- 
eous that  are  therein  ? 

That  be  far  from  thee  to  do  after  this  manner,  to  slay  the 
righteous  with  the  wicked  ;  and  that  the  righteous  should  be 
as  the  wicked,  that  be  far  from  thee.  Shall  not  the  judge  of 
all  the  earth  do  right  ? 

And  the  Lord  said,  If  I  find  in  So'dom  fifty  righteous 
within  the  city,  then  I  will  spare  all  the  place  for  their  sakes. 

And  Abraham  answered  and  said,  Behold  now,  I  h^ve  ta- 
ken upon  me  to  speak  unto  the  Lord,  who  am  but  dust  and 
ashes : 

Peradventure  there  shall  lack  five  of  the  fifty  righteous : 
wilt  thou  destroy  all  the  city  for  lack  of  five  ?  And  he  said, 
If  I  find  there  forty  and  five,  I  will  not  destroy  it. 

And  he  spake  yet  again,  and  said,  Peradventure  there 
shall  be  forty  found  there.  And  he  said,  I  will  not  do  it  for 
forty's  sake. 

And  he  said  unto  him,  0  let  not  the  Lord  be  angry,  and 
I  will  speak :  Peradventure  there  shall  thirty  be.  found  there. 
And  he  said,  I  will  not  do  it  if  I  find  thirty  there. 

And  he  said,  Behold  now,  I  have  taken  upon  me  to  speak 
unto  the  Lord :  Peradventure  there  shall  be  twenty  found 
there.     And  he  said,  I  will  not  destroy  it  for  twenty's  sake. 

And  he  said,  O  let  not  the  Lord  be  angry,  and  I  will  speak 
yet  but  this  once.  Peradventure  ten  shall  be  found  there. 
And  he  said,  I  will  not  destroy  it  for  ten's  sake. 

And  the  Lord  went  his  way,  as  soon  as  he  had  left  commu- 
ning with  Abraham :  And  Abraham  returned  unto  his  place. 


Turn  the   Carpet. 

As  at  their  work  two  weavers  sat. 
Beguiling  time  with  friendly  chat. 
They  touched  upon  the  price  of  meat, 
So  high  a  weaver  scarce  could  eat. 
^'  What  with  my  brats  and  sickly  wife,^* 
Quoth  Dick,  "I'm  almost  tired  of  life; 
So  hard  my  work,  so  poor  my  fare, 
'Tis  more  than  mortal  man  can  bear. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIBST  READER.  %J 

"  How  glorious  is  the  rich  man's  state  ! 
His  house  so  fine  !  his  wealth  so  great ! 
Heaven  is  unjust,  you  must  agree. 
Why  all  to  him  ?  why  none  to  me  ? 
In  spite  of  what  the  Scripture  teaches, 
In  spite  of  all  the  parson  preaches. 
This  world  (indeed,  I've  thouglit  ao  long) 
Is  ruled,  mcthinks,  extremely  wrong. 
Where'er  I  look,  howe'er  I  range, 
'Tis  all  confuted,  and  hard,  and  strange; 
The  good  are  troubled  and  oppressed, 
And  all  the  wicked  are  the  blessed." 

Quoth  John,  ♦'  Our  ignorance  is  the  cause 
Why  thus  we  blame  our  Maker's  laws. 
Parts  of  his  ways  alone  we  know ; 
'Tis  all  that  man  can  see  below. 
Seest  thou  that  carpet,  not  half  done, 
Which  thou,  dear  Dick,  hast  well  begun  ? 
Behold  the  wild  confusion  there  ! 
So  rude  the  mass,  it  makes  one  stare. 
A  stranger,  ignorant  of  the  trade, 
Would  say,  no  meaning's  there  conveyed ; 
FoL'  where's  the  middle  ?  where's  the  border  ? 
Thy  carpet  now  is  all  disorder." 

Said  Dick,  ^'  My  work  is  yet  in  bits, 

But  still  in  every  part  it  fits ; 

Beside,  you  reason  like  a  lout ; 

Why,  man,  that  carpet's  inside  out  \" 

Says  John,  ^'  Thou  say'st  the  thing  I  mean ; 

And  now  I  hope  to  cure  thy  spleen. 

This  world,  which  clouds  thy  soul  with  doubt, 

Is  but  a  carpet  inside  out. 

"As  when  we  view  these  shreds  and  ends, 
We  know  not  what  the  whole  intends, 
So,  when  on  earth  things  look  but  odd, 
They're  working  still  some  scheme  of  God. 
No  plan,  no  pattern  can  we  trace ; 
All  wants  proportion,  truth,  and  grace; 
The  motley  mixture  we  deride, 
Nor  see  the  beauteous  upper  side. 


9S  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

"  But  when  we  reach  that  world  of  light, 

And  view  those  works  of  Grod  aright, 

Then  shall  we  see  the  whole  design, 

And  own  the  Workman  is  Divine. 

What  now  seem  random  strokes,  will  there 

All  order  and  design  appear ; 

Then  shall  we  praise  what  here  we  spurned ; 

For  then  the  carpet  shall  he  turned  /'" 

"  Thou'rt  right/'  quoth  Dick,  "  no  more  I'll  gruriible 

That  this  sad  world's  so  strange  a  jumble; 

My  impious  doubts  are  put  to  flight, 

For  my  own  carpet  sets  me  right." 


rTudah's  Siipj^lication  to  Joseph  /or  the  Liberation  of 

Benjamin. 

Then  Judah  came  near  unto  Joseph,  and  said,  Oh,  my 
lord,  let  thy  servant,  I  pray  thee,  speak  a  word  in  my  lord's 
ears,  and  let  not  thine  anger  burn  against  thy  servant :  for 
thou  art  even  as  Pharaoh. 

My  lord  asked  his  servants,  saying.  Have  ye  a  father,  or  a 
brother  ? 

And  we  said  unto  my  lord.  We  have  a  father,  an  old  man, 
and  a  child  of  his  old  age,  a  little  one :  and  his  brother  is 
dead;  and  he  alone  is  left  of  his  mother,  and  his  father  loveth 
him. 

And  thou  saidst  unto  thy  servants,  Bring  him  down  unto 
me,  that  I  may  set  mine  eyes  upon  him. 

And  we  said  unto  my  lord.  The  lad  cannot  leave  his 
father :  for  if  he  should  leave  his  father,  his  father  would 
die. 

And  thou  saidst  unto  thy  servants.  Except  your  youngest 
brother  come  down  with  you,  ye  shall  see  my  face  no  more. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  we  came  up  unto  thy  servant  my 
father,  we  told  him  the  words  of  my  lord. 

And  our  father  said,  Go  again,  buy  us  a  little  food. 

And  we  said,  We  cannot  go  down  :  if  our  youngest  brother 
be  with  us,  then  will  we  go  down :  for  we  may  not  see  the 
man's  face  except  our  youngest  brother  be  with  us. 

And  thy  servant  my  father  said  unto  us,  Ye  know  that  my 
wife  bare  me  two  sons. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  99. 

And  the  one  went  out  from  me,  and  I  said,  Surely  he  is 
torn  in  pieces ;  and  I  saw  him  jiot  since  : 

And  if  ye  take  this  also  from  me,  and  mischief  befall  him, 
ye  shall  bring  down  my  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 

Now,  therefore,  when  i  come  to  thy  servant  my  father,  and 
the  lad  be  not  with  us;  seeing  that  his  life  is  bound  up  in  the 
lad's  life ; 

It  shall  come  to  pass,  when  he  seeth  that  the  lad  is  not  with 
us,  that  he  will  die :  and  thy  servants  shall  bring  down  the 
gray  hairs  of  thy  servant  our  father,  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 

For  thy  servant  became  surety  for  the  lad  unto  my  father, 
saying,  If  I  bring  him  not  unto  thee,  theu  I  shall  bear  the 
blame  unto  my  father  forever. 

Now,  therefore,  I  pray  thee,  let  thy  servant  abide  instead 
of  the  lad,  a  bondman  to  my  lord ;  and  Jet  the  lad  go  up  with 
his  brethren. 

For  how  shall  I  go  up  to  my  father,  and  the  lad  be  not  with 
us?  lest  peradventure  I  see  the  evil  that  shall  come  on  my 
father. 


r^oseph  Makes  HwXseJf  KnoiQn  to  his  Brethren, 

Then  Joseph  could  not  refrain  himself  before  all  them  that 
stood  by  him  ;  and  he  cried.  Cause  every  man  to  go  out  from 
me.  And  there  stood  no  man  with  him,  while  Joseph  made 
himself  known  unto  his  brethren. 

And  he  wept  aloud  :  and  the  Egyptians  and  the  house  of 
Pharoah  heard. 

And  Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  I  am  Joseph :  doth  my 
father  yet  live?  And  his  brethren  could  not  answer  himj  for 
they  were  troubled  at  his  presence. 

And  Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  Come  near  to  me,  I 
pray  you :  and  they  came  near.  And  he  said,  I  am  Joseph 
your  brother,  whom  ye  sold  into  Egypt. 

Now,  therefore,  be  not  grieved  nor  angry  with  yourselves, 
that  ye  sold  me  hither;  for  God  did  send  me  before  you  to 
preserve  life. 

For  these  two  years  hath  the  famine  been  in  the  land ;  and 
yet  there  are  five  years  in  the  which  there  shall  be  neither 
earing  nor  harvest. 

And  God  sent  me  before  you  to  preserve  you  a  posterity  in 
the  earth,  and  to  save  your  lives  by  a  great  deliverance. 


100  THE  CONFEDERATE  f'iRST  READfilt. 

So  now,  it  was  not  you  that  sent  me  hither,  but  God :  and 
he  hath  made  me  a  father  to  Pharoah,  and  lord  of  all  Ms 
house;  and  a  ruler  throughout  all  the  land  of  Egypt, 

Haste  you^  and  go  up  to  my  father^  and  say  unto  him^  Thus 
saith  thy  son  Joseph,  God  hath  made  me  lord  of  all  Egypt : 
come  down  unto  me,  tarry  not. 

And  thou  shalt  dwell  in  the  land  of  Goshen,  and  thou  shalt 
be  near  unto  me,  thou  and  thy  children,  and  thy  children's 
children,  and  thy  flocks,  and  thy  herds,  and  all  that  thou 
hast : 

And  there  will  I  nourish  thee,  (for  yet  there  are  five  years 
of  famine,)  lest  thou,  and  th}^  household,  and  all  that  thou 
hast,  come  to  poverty. 

Aud  behold  your  eyes  see,  and  the  eyes  of  my  brother  Ben- 
jamin, that  it  is  my  m(juth  that  speaketh  unto  you. 

And  you  shall  tell  my  father  of  all  my  glory  in  Egypt,  and 
of  all  that  you  have  seen ;  and  ye  shall  haste,  and  bring  down 
my  father  hither. 

And  he  fell  upon  his  brother  Benjamin's  neck  and  wept; 
and  Benjamin  wept  upon  his  neck. 

Moreover,  he  kissed  all.his  brethren,  and  wept  uponlliem; 
and  after  that,  his  brethreli  talked  with  him. 

And  the  fame  thereof  was  heard  in  Pharoah's  house,  saying, 
Joseph's  brethren  are  come  :  and  it  pleased  Pharoah  well,  and 
his  servants. 

And  Pharoah  said  unto  Joseph,  Say  unto  thy  brethren, 
This  do  ye ;  lade  your  beasts,  and  go,  get  you  unto  the  land 
of  Canaan ; 

And  take  your  father,  and  your  households,  and  come  unto 
me;  and  I  will  give  you  the  good  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  and 
ye  shall  eat  the  fat  of  the  land. 

Now  thou  art  commanded,  this  do  ye :  Take  your  wagons 
out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  for  your  little  ones,  and  for  your 
wives,  and  bring  your  father,  and  come. 

Also  regard  not  your  stuff :  for  the  good  of  all  the  land  of 
Egypt  is  yours. 

And  the  children  of  Israel  did  so :  and  Joseph  gave  them 
wagons,  according  to  the  commandment  of  Pharoah,  and  gave 
them  provision  for  the  way. 

And  they  went  up  out  of  Egypt,  and  came  into  the  laud  of 
Canaan  unto  Jacob  their  father, 

Aud  told  hiiJ3j  saying,  Joseph  is  yet  alivej  and  he  is  gover- 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  101 

nor  over  all  the  land  of  Egypt.  And  Jacob's  heart  fainted, 
for  he  believed  them  not. 

And  they  told  him  all  the  words  of  Joseph,  which  he  had 
said  unto  them  :  and  when  he  saw  the  wagons  which,  Joseph 
had  sent  to  carry  him,  the  spirit  of  Jacob  their  father 
revived. 

And  Israel  said,  It  is  enough  :  Joseph,  my  son,  is  yet  alive ; 
I  will  go  down  and  see  him  before  I  die. 


The  Sluggard. 

'Tis  the  voice  of  the  Sluggard  :  I  heard  him  complain, 
"  You  have  waked  me  too  soon  !  I  must  slumber  again  ! 
As  the  door  on  its  hinges,  so  he  on  his  bed 
Turns  his  sides,  and  his  shoulders,  and  his  heavy  head. 

"  A  little  more  sle*  \-  ind  a  little  more  slumber  !" 

Thus  he  wastes  hali  hi.^  days,  and  his  hours  without  number ; 

And  when  he  gets  up,  he  sits  folding  his  hands. 

Or  walks  ?hout  sauntering,  or  trifling  he  stands. 

I  passed  by  his  garden,  and  saw  the  wild  brier, 
The  thorn,  and  the  thistle  grow  broader  and  higher : 
The"  clothes  that  hang  on  him  are  turning  to  rags ; 
And  his  money  still  wastes,  till  he  starves  or  he  begs. 

I  made  him  a  visit,  still  hoping  to  find 
He  had  taken  better  care  for  improving  his  mind : 
He  told  me  his  dreams,  talk'd  of  eating  and  drinking ; 
But  he  scarce  reads  his  Bible,  and  never  loves  thinking. 

Said  I  then  to  my  heart,  "  Here's  a  lesson  for  me  ! 

That  man's  but  a  picture  of  what  I  might  be ; 

But  thanks  to  my  friends  for  their  care  in  my  breeding, 

Who  have  taught  me  by  times  to  love  working  and  reading !" 


The  Tutor  and  his  Pupils;   Or^  Use  Your  Eyes. 

Well,  Robert,  where  have  you  been  walking  this  afternoon  ? 
said  a  tutor  to  one  of  his  pupils  at  the  close  of  a  holiday. 


102  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER. 

Rohert. — I  have  been  to  Broom-lieath,  and  so  round  by  tbe 
windmill  upon  Camp-mount  and  home  through  the  meadows 
by  the  .river  side. 

Tutor. — Well,  that  is  a  pleasant  round. 

Rohert.— \  thought  it  very  dull,  sir  ]  T  scarcely  met  with  a 
single  person.  I  would  much  rather  have  gone  along  the 
turnpike  road. 

Tutor. — Why,  if  seeing  men  and  horses  is  your  object,  you 
would,  indeed,  be  better  entertained  on  the  high  road.  But 
did  you  see  William  ? 

Rohert, — We  set  out  together, l^ut  he  lagged  behind  in  the 
lane,  so  I  walked  on  and  left  him. 

Tutor. — That  was  a  pity.  He  would  r.  ve  been  company 
for  you. 

Rohert. — 0 !  he  is  so  tredious,  alwiys  stoppiug  to  look  at 
this  thing  and  that;  I  would  rather  walk  alone.  I  dare  say 
he  has  not  got  home  yet. 

Tutor ,—~\1qtq  he  comes.  Well,  "Wiiliam,  where  have  you 
been? 

William.— -O,  the  pleasantest  walk !  I  went  all  over  Broom- 
heath,  and  so  up  to  the  mill  at  the  top  of  the  mount,  and  then 
down  among  the  green  meadows  by  tlie  -"de  of  the  river. 

Tutor.- — Why,  that  is  just  the  round  Robert  has  been  taking ; 
and  he  complains  of  its  dullness,  and  prefers  the  high  road. 

Wlllmm. — I  wonder  at  that.  I  am  sure  I  hardly  took  a 
step  that  did  not  delight  me,  and  I  have  brought  home  my 
handkerchief  full  of  curiosities. 

.7\<to?'.— -Suppose,  then,  you  give  us  an  account  of  what 
amused  you  so  much.  I  fancy  it  will  be  as  new  to  Robert  as 
to  me. 

William. — I  will  do  it  readily.  The  lane  leading  to  the 
heath,  3^ou  know,  is  close  and  sandy ;  so  I  did  not  mind  it 
much,  but  made  the  best  of  my  way :  however,  I  spied  a  cu- 
rious thing  enough  in  the  hedge.  It  was  an  old  crab  tree,  out 
of  which  grew  a  great  branch  of  something  green,  quite  dif- 
ferent from  the  tree  itself.     Here  is  a  branch  of  it. 

Tutor.—Ah.  I  this  is  mistletoe ;  a  plant  of  great  fame  for 
the  use  made  of  it  by  the  Druids  of  old,  in  their  religious 
rites  and  incantations.  It  bears  a  slimy  white  berry,  of  which 
bird-lime  is  made,  whence  its  Latin  name  of  viscus.  It  is  one 
of  those  plants  which  do  not  grow  in  the  ground  by  a  root 
of  their  own^  but  fix  themselves  upon  other  plants ;  whence 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  103 

they  have  been  humorously  styled  "parasitical/^  as  being 
hangers-on  or  dependents.  It  was  the  mistletoe  of  the  oak 
that  the  Druids  particularly  honored. 

William. — A  little  further  on  I  saw  a  green  wood-pecker 
fly  to  a  tree,  and  run  up  the  trunk  like  a  eat. 

Tutor.-— Thnt  was  to  seek  for  insects  in  the  bark,  on  which 
they  live.  They  bore  boles  with  their  strong  bills  for  that  pur- 
pose, and  do  much  damage  to  the  trees  by  it. 

William. — When  I  got  upon  the  open  heath,  how  charming 
it  was !  The  air  seemed  so  fresh,  and  the  prospect  on  every 
side  so  free  and  unbounded  !  Tken  it  was  all  covered  with 
gay  flowers,  many  of  which  I  had  never  observed  before. 
There  was  a  flock  of  lapwings  upon  a  marshy  part  of  the 
heath,  that  amused  me  much.  As  I  came  near  them,  some  of 
them  kept  flying  round  and  round,  just  over  my  head,  and 
crying  "  pewit,''  so  distinctly  one  might  almost  fancy  they 
spoke.  1  thought  I  should  have  caught  one  of  them,  for  he 
flew  as  if  one  of  his  wings  was  broken,  and  often  tumbled 
close  to  the  ground ;  but  as  I  came  near  he  always  contrived 
to  get  away. 

Tutor. — Ha,  ha !  you  were  finel}^  taken  in,  then  !  This 
was  all  an  artifice  of  the  bird's,  to  entice  you  away  from  its 
nest;  for  they  build  upon  the  bare  ground,  and  their  nest 
would  easily  be  observed  did  they  not  draw  off  the  attention 
of  intruders  by  their  loud  cries  and  counterfeited  lameness. 

William. — I  wish  I  had  known  that,  for  he  led  me  a  long 
chase,  often  over  shoes  in  water.  However,  it  was  the  cause 
of  my  falling  in  with  an  old  man  and  a  boy,  who  were  cutting 
and  piling  up  turf  for  fuel;  and  1  had  a  good  deal  of  talk 
with  them  about  the  manner  of  preparing  the  turf,  and  the 
price  it  sells  at. 

I  then  took  my  course  up  to  the  windmill,  on  the  mount.  I 
climbed  up  the  steps  of  the  mill,  in  order  to  get  a  better  view 
of  the  country  around.  What  an  extensive  prospect !  I 
counted  fifteen  church  steeples;  and  I  saw  several  gentle- 
men's houses  peeping  out  from  the  midst  of  green  woods  and 
plantations;  and  I  could  trace  the  windings  of  the  river  all 
along  the  low  grounds,  till  it  was  lost  behind  a  ridge  of  hills. 

From  the  hill  I  went  straight  down  to  the  meadows  below, 
and  walked  on  the  side  of  a  little  brook  till  it  entered  the  river, 
and  then  I  took  the  path  th«t  runs  along  the  bunk.  On  the 
opposite  side  I  observed  seveml  little  birds  running  along  the 


104  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIEST  READER. 

shore,  and  making  a  piping  noise.     They  were  brown  and 
white,  and  about  as  big  as  a  snipe. 

Tutor. — I  suppose  they  were  sand-pipers=— one  of  the  nu- 
merous family  of  birds  that  get  their  Uving  by  wading  among 
the  shallows,  and  picking  up  worms  and  insects. 

William.' — There  were  a  great  many  swallows,  too,  sporting 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  that  entertained  me  with  their  mo- 
tions. Sometimes  they  dashed  into  the  stream;  sometimes  they 
pursued  one  another  so  quickly  that  the  eye  could  scarcely  fol- 
low them.  In  one  place,  where  a  high,  steep  sand-bank  rose 
directly  above  the  river,  I  observed  many  of  them  go  in  and 
out  of  holes  with  which  the  bank  was  bored  full. 

Tutor. — Those  were  sand-martins,  the  smallest  of  our  four 
species  of  swallows.  They  are  of  a  mouse-color  above  and 
white  beneath.  They  make  their  nests  and  bring  up  their 
young  in  these  holes,  which  run  a  great  depth,  and  by  their 
situation  are  secure  from  all  plunderers. 

William. — A  little  further  1  saw  a  man  in  a  boat,  who  was 
catching  eels  in  an  odd  way.  He  had  a  long  pole,  with  broad 
iron  prongs  at  the  end,  just  like  Neptune's  trident,  only  there 
were  five  instead  of  three.  This  he  pushed  straight  down 
among  the  mud  in  the  deepest  part  of  the  river,  and  fetched 
up  eels  sticking  between  the  prongs. 

Tutor, — I  have  seen  this  method.  It  is  called  spearing  of 
eels. 

TF///?am.— While  I  was  looking  at  him  a  heron  came  flying 
over  my  head  with  his  large  flagging  wings.  Efe  alighted  at 
the  next  turn  of  the  river,  and  I  crept  softly  behind  the  bank 
to^  watch  his  motions.  He  had  waded  into  the  water  as  far  as 
his  long  legs  would  carry  him,  and  was  standing  with  his  neck 
drawn  in,  looking  intently  on  the  stream.  Presently  he 
dashed  his  long  bill  as  quick  as  lightning  into  the  water,  and 
drew  out  a  fish,  which  he  swallowed.  I  saw  him  catch  an- 
other in  the  same  manner.  He  then  took  alarm  at  some  noise 
I  made,  and  flew  away  slowly  to  a  wood  at  some  distance, 
where  he  settled. 

Tutor. — Probably  his  nest  was  there ;  for  herons  build  upon 
the  loftiest  trees  they  can  find,  and  sometimes  in  society  to- 
gether, like  rooks.  Formerly,  when  these  birds  were  valued 
for  the  amusement  of  hawking,  many  gentlemen  had  their 
heronries  ;  and  a  few  are  still  remaining. 

William, — I  then  turned  homeward  across  the  meadows, 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  105 

where  I  stopped  a  while  to  look  at  a  large  flock  of  starlings, 
which  kept  flying  about  at  no  great  distance.  I  could  not  tell 
at  first  what  to  make  of  them;  for  they  rose  all  together  from 
the  ground  as  thick  as  a  swarm  of  bees,  and  formed  themselves 
into  a  kind  of  black  cloud,  hovering  over  the  field.  After  tak- 
ing a  short  round,  they  settled  again,  and  presently  rose  again 
in  the  same  manner.     I  dare  say  there  were  hundreds  of  them. 

Tutor. — Perhaps  so,  for  in  the  fenny  countries  their  flocks 
are  so  numerous  as  to  break  down  whole  acres  of  reeds,  by 
settling  on  them.  This  disposition  of  starlings  to  fly  in  close 
swarms,  was  remarked  even  by  Homer,  who  compares  the  foe 
flying  from  one  of  his  heroes,  to  a  cloud  of  starlings  retiring 
dismayed  at  the  approach  of  the  hawk. 

Wi/h'am. — After  I  had  left  the  meadows,  I  crossed  the 
corn-fields  in  the  way  to  our  house,  and  passed  close  by  a  deep 
marl-pit.  Looking  into  it,  I  saw  in  one  of  the  sides,  a  cluster 
of  what  I  took  to  be  shells ;  and  upon  going  down,  I  picked 
up  a  clod  of  marl,  which  was  quite  full  of  them ;  but  how 
sea-shells  could  get  there,  I  cannot  imagine. 

Tutor. — T  do  not  wonder  at  your  surprise,  since  many  phi- 
losophers have  been  much  perplexed  to  account  for  the  same 
appearance.  It  is  ntt  uncommon  to  find  great  quantities  of 
shells  and  relics  of  marine  animals,  even  in  the  bowels  of  high 
mountains  very  remote  from  the  sea.. 

Wil/iam. — I  got  to  the  high  field  next  to  our  house  ju»st  as 
the  sun  was  setting,  and  I  stood  looking  at  it  till  it  was  quite 
lost.  What  a  glorious  sight !  The  clouds  were  tinged  with 
purple,  and  crimson,  and  yellow,  of  all  shades  and  hues,  and 
the  clear  sky  varied  from  blue  to  a  fine  green  at  the  horizon. 
But  how  large  the  sun  appears  just  as  it  sets !  T  think  it 
seems  twice  as  big  as  when  it  is  overhead. 

Tutor. — It  does  so ;  and  you  may  probably  have  observed 
the  same  apparent  enlargement  of  the  moon  at  its  rising. 

William. — I  have ;  but  pray  what  is  the  reason  of  this  ? 

Tutor. — It  is  an  optical  deception,  depending  upon  prin- 
ciples which  I  cannot  well  explain  to  you,  till  you  know  more 
of  that  branch  of  science.  But  w^hat  a  number  of  new  ideas 
this  afternoon's  walk  has  aff'orded  you  !  I  do  not  wonder  that 
you  found  it  amusing ;  it  has  been  very  instructing,  too. 
Did  YOU  see  nothing  of  all  these  sights,  Robert  ? 

Robert. — I  saw  some  of  them,  but  I  did  not  take  particular 
notice  of  them. 
6 


IQfi  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER, 

Tutor. — Why  not  ? 

Rohert. — I  do  not  know.  I  did  not  care  about  them ;  and 
I  made  the  best  of  my  way  home. 

'lutor. — ^That  would  have  been  right  if  you  had  been  sent 
on  a  message ;  but  as  you  walked  only  for  amusement,  it  would 
have  been  wiser  to  have  sought  out  as  many  sources  of  it  as 
possible.  But  so  it  is,  one  man  walks  through  the  world  with 
his  eyes  open,  and  another  with  them  shut ;  and  upon  this 
difference  depends  all  the  superiority  of  knowledge  the  one 
acquires  above  the  other. 

I  have  known  a  sailor  who  had  been  in  all  quarters  of  the 
world,  and  could  tell  you  nothing  but  the  signs  of  the  tip- 
pling houses  he  frequented  in  different  ports,  and  the  price 
and  quality  of  the  liquor.  On  the  other  hand,  a  Franklin 
could  not  cross  the  English  Channel  withoftt  making  some 
observations  useful  to  mankind. 

While  many  a  vacant,  thoughtless  youth,  is  whirled  through- 
out Europe,  without  gaining  a  single  idea  worth  crossing  a 
street  for,  the  observing  eye  and  inquiring  mind,  find  matter 
for  improvement  and  delight  in  every  ramble  in  town  or 
country.  Do  you,  then,  William,  continue  to  make  use  of 
your  eyes,  and  you,  Eobert,  learn  that  eyes  were  given  you  to 
use. 


What  is  That,  Mother  f 

"Whatis  that,  mother  r 

'^  The  lark,  my  child. 
The  morn  has  just  looked  out  and  smiled. 
When  he  starts  from  his  humble,  grassy  nest, 
And  is  up  and  away,  with  the  dew  on  his  breaF^t, 
And  a  hymn  in  his  heart,  to  yon  pure,  bright  sphere, 
To  warble  it  out  in  his  Maker's  ear. 
Ever,  my  child,  be  thy  morn's  first  lays 
Tuned,  like  the  lark's,  to  thy  Maker's  praise." 

"What  is  that,  mother?" 

"  The  dove,  my  son ; 
And  that  low,  sweet  voice,  like  the  widow's  moan, 
Is  flowing  out  from  her  gentle  breast, 
Constant  and  pure  by  that  lonely  nest, 


THE  CONFEDERATB  FIRST  RBADaB.  IQ7 

As  the  wave  is  poured  from  some  crystal  urn, 
For  her  distant  dear  one's  quick  return. 
Ever,  my  son,  be  thou  like  the  dove ; 
In  friendship  as  faithful,  as  constant  in  love." 

<<  What  is  that,  mother  V 

"  The  eagle,  my  boy, 
Proudly  careering  his  course  of  joy ; 
Firm,  in  his  own  mountain  vigor  relying ; 
Breasting  the  dark  storm ;  the  red  bolt  defying  : 
His  wing  on  the  wind,  and  his  eye  on  the  sun. 
He  swerves  not  a  hair,  but  bears  onward,  right  on. 
Boy,  may  the  eagle's  flight  ever  be  thine. 
Onward,  and  upward,  and  true  to  the  line." 

'*  What  is  that,  mother  V 

"  The  swan,  my  love. 
He  is  floating  down  from  his  native  grove ; 
No  loved  one  now,  no  nestling  nigh; 
He  is  floating  down,  by  himself,  to  die. 
Death  darkens  his  eye,  and  unplumes  his  wings ; 
Yet  his  sweetest  song  is  the  last  he  sings. 
Live  so,  my  love,  that,  when  death  shall  come, 
Swan-like  and  sweet  it  may  waft  thee  home." 


LlttU  John  and  his  Bowl  of  Milk 

There  was  once  a  little  boy  by  the  name  of  John.  He 
demeaned  himself  very  well,  and  was  generally  of  a  good 
temper ;  bmt  he  was  too  fond  of  his  own  pleasure,  and  would 
sometimes  be  unkind  or  uncivil,  rather  than  deny  himself  an 
enjoyment,  for  the  sake  of  doing  a  favor  to  another  person. 

One  night  when  little  John  sat  down  to  his  supper,  he 
asked  for  the  bowl  of  milk  which  his  kind  mother  always  gave 
him  at  that  meal.  His  mother  told  him  he  must  do  without 
milk  that  night ;  for  that  a  poor  woman  who  lived  close  by, 
had  sent  to  ask  for  some  milk  for  her  sick  child,  and  she  had 
given  it  all  to  her. 

John  did  not  behave  like  a  good  boy  when  his  mother  told 
him  this.     He  pouted,  aud  looked  surly  aud  angry ;  and  h« 


108  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  RBADIR. 

said  to  his  mother  he  did  not  like  to  have  his  milk  given  away 
to  other  children ;  and  that  he  would  not  eat  his  supper  at  all. 

The  good  mother  was  very  sorry  to  see  her  little  son  show 
such  unconcern  for  the  comfort  of  a  «ick  person.  But  she 
told  him,  as  he  was  so  unwilling,  she  would  never  give  his 
milk  away  again. 

She  thought;  however,  of  a  plan  by  which  she  hoped  to 
lead  her  little  boy  to  cherish  better  feelings.  So  the  next 
morning,  she  told  him,  to  get  his  hat  and  take  a  walk  with 
her.  John  was  always  eager  to  go  with  his  mother,  for  he 
loved  her  very  much.  So  he  got  his  hat,  and  ran  to  open  the 
gate  for  her,  and  they  were  soon  on  their  way. 

The  first  place  at  which  they  stopped  was  the  house  where 
the  little  sick  child  lived ;  and  when  they  walked  in,  John's 
mother  asked  the  lady  how  the  child  was.  ''  Oh  madam,'' 
said  she,  "little  Charley  is  a  great  deal  better  this  morning, 
That  milk  you  sent  him,  acted  like  a  charm !  It  is  tke  first 
thing  he  has  eaten  for  two  days.  He  begged  for  some,  and  I 
did  not  know  where  I  could  get  any,  except  at  your  house. 
It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  send  it  to  him.  As  soon  as  he 
drank  it,  he  fell  asleep,  and  slept  sweetly  all  night  long ;  and 
this  morning  he  looks  so  much  better  that  I  feel  as  if  my  dear 
little  boy  would  get  well  again.'' 

John's  mother  told  the  lady  she  was  very  glad  to  hear  that 
her  little  boy  was  so  much  better,  and  said  she  would  like  to 
send  him  some  milk  every  evening ;  but  that  she  would  not 
be  able  to  give  him  any  more.  The  poor  woman  said  she  was 
very  sorry,  but  that  she  hoped  Charley  might  now  get  along 
without  it. 

After  they  left  the  house,  John's  mother  did  not  say  any 
thing  to  him  about  the  sick  boy  and  the  milk.  She  saw  that 
John  was  thinking,  and  she  thought  it  was  better  to  leave  him 
to  make  his  own  conclusions. 

That  night  when  they  sat  down  to  supper  again,  little  John 
found  his  bowl  of  milk  by  his  plate,  as  usual.  But  he  did  not 
seem  as  if  he  wanted  to  eat;  and  after  some  hesitation  and 
confusion,  he  went  up  to  his  mother  and  whispered  in  her  ear, 
to  know  if  he  might  do  what  he  pleased  with  his  milk.  His 
mother  gave  her  consent,  and  John  put  on  his  hat,  and  took 
his  bowl  of  milk,  and  went  out. 

After  some  time  John  came  in  again,  his  little  face  glowing 
with  pleasure.  "  '^Oh  !  mother,^'  he  said,  "1  thought  I  would 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  209 

make  my  supper  on  nof-mUk  to-night,  instead  of  milk;  and 
indeed,  mother,  7}ot-m\]k  is  much  the  best."  His  mother 
knew  very  well  what  her  little  boy  meant.  He  had  carried 
his  bowl  of  milk  to  Charley;  and  when  he  saw  how  delighted 
the  poor,  sick  boy  was,  he  said  it  gave  hira  a  great  deal  more 
pleasure  to  do  without  the  milk  for  Charity's  sake,  than  to 
drink  it.  And  so,  for  a  little  jest,  he  told  his  mother  that  he 
had  made  his  supper  on  not-milky  and  that  it  was  a  great  deal 
betttr  than  milk, 

John's  mother  was  highly  gratified,  when  she  saw  that  her 
little  son  had  learned  the  luxury  of  doing  good,  and  had  found 
that  it  makes  a  person  much  happier  to  be  kind  than  to  be 
selfish. 


Casablanca. 

The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  deck, 
Whence  all  but  him  had  fled ; 

The  flame  that  lit  the  battle's  wreck, 
Shone  round  him  o'er  the  dead. 

Yet  beautiful  and  bright  he  stood, 

As  born  to  rule  the  storm ; 
A  creature  of  heroic  blood, 

A  proud,  though  childlike  form. 

The  flames  rolled  on — he  would  not  go 

Without  his  father's  word; 
That  father,  faint  in  death  below. 

His  voice  no  longer  heard. 

He  called  aloud ; — '"  Say,  father,  say 

If  yet  my  task  is  done ! " 
He  knew  not  that  the  chieftain  lay 

Unconscious  of  his  son. 

"  Speak,  father  V  once  again  he  cried, 

''  If  I  may  yet  be  gone  I" 
And  but  the  booming  shot  replied, 

And  fast  the  flames  rolled  on. 

Upon  his  brow  he  felt  their  breath, 
And  in  hii  waving  hair,  . 


110  THE  CONFEDERATE  FIR^T  REAPER. 

And  looked  from  that  lone  post  of  death, 
In  still,  yet  brave  despair, — 

And  shouted  but  once  more  aloud, 

"  My  father  !  must  I  stay  ?" 
While  o'er  him  fast,  through  sail  and  shroud, 

The  wreathing  fires  made  way. 

They  wrapped  the  ship  in  splendor  wild ; 

They  caught  the  flag  on  high, 
And  streamed  above  the  gallant  child, 

Like  banners  in  the  sky. 

There  came  a  burst  of  thunder  sound  :— 

The  boy — 0,  where  was  he  ? 
Ask  of  the  winds  that  far  around 

With  fragments  strewed  the  sea — 

With  mast,  and  helm,  and  pennon  fair. 

That  well  had  borne  their  part ; 
But  the  noblest  thing  which  perished  there. 

Was  that  young,  faithful  heart ! 

[The  above  lines  relate  to  a  boy  of  thirteen  years  of  age,  who 
lost  his  life  in  the  celebrated  battle  of  the  Nile.  His  father  was 
commander  of  the  Orient,  and  was  killed  in  the  same  battle.] 


TJip  Litth  Twlpt-'A  Fahle, 

Once  there  was  a  gentleman  who  made  a  beautiful  garden. 
He  laid  it  out  in  walks,  with  nice  borders,  and  he  had  in  it 
beautiful  grass-plats  and  pools  of  water. 

He  then  planted  in  it  all  kinds  of  trees  and  shrubs  and 
flowers,  and  had  vines  and  fruits  of  every  description.  The 
great  oak  tree  cast  its  deep  shade  over  the  lawn,  while  the 
birds  built  their  nests  and  sung  their  songs  in  its  branches. 
The  apple-tree  was  white  with  blossoms  in  the  spring,  and  in 
the  autumn  it  was  loaded  with  fruit. 

The  vines  hung  thick  with  luscious  grapes,  and  oranges, 
and  all  kinds  of  delicious  fruits,  grew  on  every  side.  The 
air  was  filled  with  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers.  There  were 
the  myrtle  and  the  lilac,  and  other  flowering  shrubs;  and 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  HI 

also  beautiful  roses,  and  verbenas,  and  dahlias,  and  peonies, 
and  heart's-ease,  and  hyacinths,  and  amaranths,  and  the  sweet 
little  violet,  and  many  other  flowers. 

It  was  very  delightful  to  the  owner  of  this  garden,  to  visit 
it.  He  would  stroll  along  its  pleasant  walks,  or  he  would  sit 
in  its  green  shades,  and  listen  to  the  songs  of  the  birds.  He 
would  invite  his  friends  to  go  with  him ;  and  they  would 
pluck  the  luscious  fruits,  and  admire  the  beautiful  flowers; 
and  they  all  said  they  had  never  before  seen  so  beautiful  a 
garden. 

But  one  morning,  when  the  gentleman  went  to  see  his  gar- 
den, he  found  everything  changed.  The  leaves  of  the  oak 
tree  were  withered,  and  it  no  longer  gave  any  shade.  The 
other  trees,  and  the  shrubs,  were  also  casting  their  leaves,  and 
they  seemed  to  be  dying.  The  roses  had  dropped  to  pieces, 
and  all  the  other  flowers  were  faded  and  dead.  The  grass 
too  had  dried  up, and  the  vines  were  naked;  and  everything 
looked  desolate  and  dreary. 

The  gentleman  was  greatly  distressed  to  see  what  a  change 
had  suddenly  taken  place  in  his  beautiful  garden,  and  he  de- 
termined to  try  to  find  out  the  cause.  So  he  spo^^'?.  to  the 
oak  tree,  and  asked  what  was  the  reason  that  its  leaves  were 
withered,  and  its  beauty  all  gone.  The  oak  replied,  "  I  have 
concluded  to  be  idle,  because  I  feel  that  I  am  of  very  little  use 
in  the  garden.  I  bear  no  fruit  except  a  little  acorn,  which  is 
so  bitter  that  even  the  pigs  will  scarcely  eat  it.  If  I  was  like 
the  apple-tree,  I  would  be  willing  to  bear  fruit  forever." 

The  gentleman  then  asked  the  apple-tree,  why  it  too  had 
put  ofl'  its  leaves,  and  seemed  to  be  dead.  The  apple-tree 
replied  that  it  was  a  poor  unsightly  tree,  and  not  tall  and 
spreading  like  the  oak.  It  produced  a  few  apples  once  a  year, 
but  what  of  that  ?  It  was  of  no  use  in  the  garden,  and  it 
was  better  for  it  to  be  dead  than  alive. 

The  gentleman  then  went  from  tree  to  tree,  and  from  flower 
to  flower,  and  put  to  them  the  same  question,  and  they  all 
gave  him  the  same  answer.  They  were  all  discontented  with 
their  lot.  Those  that  bore  fruit,  wanted  to  bear  flowers;  and 
those  that  bore  flowers,  wished  to  bear  fruit.  Each  said  that 
it  was  of  no  advantage  to  the  garden,  and  it  had,  therefore, 
concluded  to  wither  and  die. 

The  good  man  was  deeply  afflicted,  and  walked  about  with 
his  eyes  upon  the  ground,  grieving  that  his  lovely  garden 


112  THE  CONPBDlHAJl  FIRST  RBADBR. 

should  so  suddenly  have  become  a  waste.  At  last,  in  one 
corner  of  the  garden,  he  saw  a  little  violet  growing  where 
he  had  planted  it,  and  looking  bright  and  beautiful.  It  was 
the  only  flower  that  was  blooming  in  the  whole  garden;  but  it 
held  its  little  head  as  high,  and  its  colors  were  as  beautiful, 
and  its  odor  as  fragrant,  as  ever. 

'^  How  is  it,  my  sweet  little  flower,'^  said  the  gentleman, 
^'  that  3'^ou  are  bright  and  happy,  while  every  thing  else  in 
the  garden  is  discontented  and  withered?  I  planted  the 
others  in  the  best  places.  I  put  them  in  ray  nicest  borderg, 
and  along  my  principal  walks ;  but  I  placed  j'^ou  in  this  distant 
corner,  where  few  would  ever  see  you.  Yet  they  have  de- 
serted me,  while  you  are  as  joyous  and  beautiful  as  ever." 

The  violet  replied,  "I  know,  sir,  that  you  would  not  have 
put  me  in  this  corner,  if  you  had  not  wanted  me  here;  and  I 
am  well  contented  to  stay  where  you  think  it  best  to  place  me. 
I  know  I  am  but  a  little  violet,  and  cannot  do  much ;  but  I 
wish  to  do  what  little  I  can,  to  make  your  garden  beautiful 
and  pleasant  to  you.  So  I  determined  to  be  the'  best  little 
yiolet  that  I  could,  and  to  show  myself  as  bright  and  as 
fragras'^-as  possible  " 

The  gentleman  was  delighted  at  the  good  conduct  and  sweet 
temper  of  the  faithful  little  violet;  and  so  he  went  back  to 
the  oak-tree,  and  told  it  how  this  little  flower.,  planted  away 
off  in  a  lonesome  corner,  had  behaved,  and  what  it  had  said. 
The  oak  became  very  much  ashamed,  as  indeed  it  ought  to 
have  been,  for  it  was  in  the  most  conspicuous  place  in  the 
garden;  and  so  it  promised  the  gentleman  it  would  immedi- 
ately leave  off  its  idle  and  discontented  ways. 

The  other  trees,  and  all  the  shrubs  and  flowers,  felt  greatly 
ashamed  also,  when  they  heard  how  the  little  violet  had  be- 
haved ;  and  they,  too,  determined  to  follow  its  example.  So 
the  trees  put  forth  fresh  leaves,  and  the  flowering  plants  put 
on  new  bloom,  and  the  grass  grew  green  again ;  and  in  a  lit- 
tle time  the  garden  was  as  pleasant  and  beautiful  as  ever. 
And  all  this  was  owing  to  the  good  example  of  the  little  vio- 
let. 

We  must  learn  from  this  fable  to  be  contented  with  our 
lot,  and  to  do  the  best  we  can  in  it.  Let  every  little  child 
determine  to  be  the  best  boy  or  girl  that  is  possible.  Per- 
sons, too,  who  are  in  humble  position,  should  not  murmur  or 
rtpine,  but  remember  that  God  put  them  there  because  he 


THB  OONFBDBRATH  FIRST  READER.  II3 

wanted  them  there.     By  imitating  the  example  of  the  little 
violet,  we  shall  be  happy  ourselves,  and  set  a  good  example. 


All  Nature  Attests  the   Creator. 

Hast  thou  beheld  the  glorious  sun, 
Through  all  the  sky  his  circuit  run ; 
At  rising  morn,  at  closing  day, 
And  when  he  beamed  his  noontide  ray  ? 

Say,  didst  thou  e'er  attentive  view. 
The  evening  cloud,  or  morning  dew  ? 
Or,  aft(  V  rain,  the  wat'ry  bow. 
Rise  in    '  c  e.ist  a  beauteous  show? 

When  darkness  had  o'erspread  the  skies, 
Hast  thou  e'er  seen  the  moon  arise ; 
And,  with  a  mild  and  placid  light. 
Shed  lustre  o'er  the  face  of  night '? 

Hast  thou  e'er  wandered  o'er  the  plain. 
And  view'd  the  fields,  and  waving  grain ; 
The  flow'ry  mead,  the  leafy  grove,  • 
Where  all  is  melody  and  love  ? 

Hast  thou  e'er  trod  the  sandy  shore, 
And  heard  the  restless  ocean  roar, 
When  roused  by  some  tremendous  storm, 
Its  billows  roll  in  dreadful  form  ? 

Hast  thou  beheld  the  lightning  stream. 
Through  night's  dark  gloom,  with  sudden  gleam; 
While  the  bellowing  thunder's  sound, 
Roll'd  rattling  through  the"  heavens  profound  ? 

Hast  thou  e'er  felt  the  cutting  gale. 
The  sleety  shower,  the  biting  hail ; 
Beheld  bright  snow  o'erspread  the  plains, 
The  water  bound  in  icy  chains  ? 

Hast  thou  the  various  beings  seen, 
That  eport  along  the  Talley  green ; 


THS  CONFIDERATI  FIRST  RKADBE. 

That  sweetly  warble  on  the  spray, 
Or  wanton  in  the  sunny  ray  j 

That  shoot  along  the  briny  deep, 
Or  under  ground  their  dwellings  keep ; 
That  through  the  gloomy  forest  range. 
Or  frightful  wilds,  and  deserts  strange  ? 

Hast  thou  the  wond'rous  scenes  surveyM, 
That  all  around  thee  are  display'd ; 
And  hast  thou  never  rais'd  thine  eyes 
To  Him  who  caus'd  these  scenes  to  rise  ? 

'Twas  God  who  formed  the  concave  sky, 
And  all  the  shining  orbs  on  high ; 
Who  gave  the  various  beiujii  birth, 
That  people  all  the  spacious  earth. 

^Tis  He  that  bids  the  tempest  rise. 
And  rolls  the  thunder  through  the  skies. 
His  voice  the  elements  obey : 
Through  all  the  earth  extends  Hi:^  sway. 

His  goodness  all  His  creatures  share ; 
But  Man  is  His  peculiar  care : 
Then  while  they  all  proclaim  His  praifse, 
Let  Matt  His  voice  the  loudest  raise. 


A  Friend  in  Need. 

George  Cornish,  a  native  of  London,  went  to  the  East  In- 
dies, where  he  made  a  fortune.  After  many  years,  he  return- 
ed to  London,  and  immediately  w«nt  to  the  house  of  his  only 
brother.  He  was  there  informed  that  his  brother  was  dead, 
but  that  one  of  his  daughters  was  married,  and  living  near 

Mr.  Cornish  went  to  see  his  niece,  and  was  affectionately 
received.  He  found  there  another  of  his  nieces,  who  was 
also  very  glad  to  welcome  home  her  rich,  bachelor  uncle.  But 
his  brother  had  three  daughters  when  Mr.  Cornish  went  away 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  115 

.  to  India ;  and  he  now  asked  the  two  sisters  what  had  become 
of  little  Amelia,  the  third  sister. 

"Indeed,  sir/'  said  the  eldest  sister,  "we  do  not  know 
what  hf  s  become  of  Amelia.  We  never  talk  about  her,  and 
we  try  to  ibrget  her.  She  has  disgraced  herself  by  marrying 
a  man  beneath  her,  a  drawing-master  employed  in  the  fami- 
ly; and  it  has  ended  in  poverty  and  wretchedness.  Our  fa- 
ther rather  encouraged  the  match  at  first ;  but  he  afterwards 
became  hostile.  He  would  do  nothing  for  her,  and  he  made 
us  promise, no  longer  to  look  upon  her  as  a  sister." 

"  And  did  you  make  such  a  promise  ?"  asked  Mr.  Oorniih, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise  and  displeasure.  "  Poor  sufferer,"  con- 
tinued he;  "7  have  made  no  promise  to  renounce  thee!''  So 
saying,  he  took  up  his  hat,  left  the  house,  and  started  out 
imme<Hately  to  search  for  the  missing  sister. 

He  had  a  long  search  before  he  found  her.  Mr.  Bland, 
her  husband,  was  poor,  and  had  of  late  been  unfortunate ;  so 
that  he  had  been  compelled  to  change  his  quarters  very  often. 
At  last  Mr.  Cornish  found  where  Amelia  lived.  It  was  in 
the  third  story  of  a  house  in  a  narrow  alley.  As  Mr.  Cornish 
went  up  the  steps,  he  met  two  officers  coming  down;  one  with 
a  bed  upon  his  shoulders,  and  the  other  with  a  bundle  of  bed- 
clothes. A  woman  with  a  child  in  her  arms,  was  following 
them,  and  he  heard  her  exclaim,  "  Oh,  it  is  cruel  not  to  leave 
me  one  bed,  for  myself  and  my  poor  children  !" 

Mr.  Cornish  advanced  to  the  woman,  and  looked  earnestly 
at  her.  At  last  he  said,  "  Is  this  Amelia  Cornish  ?"  "  That 
was  my  name,"  she  said.  "  1  am  your  uncle  Greorge,"  he 
replied ;  and  ho  sobbed  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  The 
poor  woman  fainted,  and  it  was  some  time  before  she  recover- 
ed herself.  "  Oh,  uncle,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  a  situation 
you  see  me  in !"  He  replied,  "It  is  a  situation,  indeed,  poor 
forsaken  creature  !     But  you  have  one  friend  left  I" 

Mr.  Bland  had  become  so  poor,  that  he  had  been  unable  to 
pay  his  last  rent;  and  the  officers  had  come  to  seize  property, 
in  order  to  get  the  money.  Mr.  Cornish  immediately  paid 
the  debt,  and  made  them  bring  back  the  bed  and  clothing. 
Mr.  Bland,  himself,  had  fallen  sick  of  a  fever,  and  was  then 
in  a  hospital. 

Mrs.  Bland  told  her  uncle  that  her  husband  had  always 
been  very  kind  to  her.  He  was  industrious,  and  did  his  best 
to  take  care  of  hii  family;  but  he  could  not  alwmys  get  em- 


116  THl  OONFIDERATS  FIRST  READER. 

ployment.  It  made  her  feel  heart-broken  when  her  father* 
and  her  sisters  abandoned  her ;  and  when  her  husband  was 
taken  sick,  and  her  present  troubles  came  upon  her,  she  felt 
as  if  Heaven  had  abandoned  her  too.  "  But  in  this  hour  of 
our  extremest  distress,  you  have  been  sent  for  our  comfort," 
she  said.  ^' Thank  God!"  said  Mr.  Cornish;  ^^and  your  com- 
fort I  will  be.     Dry  up  your  tears — better  days  are  coming !" 

As  it  was  too  late  to  move  his  niece  that  day,  Mr.  Cornish 
sent  them  up  an  abundant  supply  of  nice  food,  to  last  them 
till  the  next.  He  then  went  to  the  hospital  to  see  ♦Mr.  Bland,  • 
and  told  him  to  cheer  up,  and  that  his  family  should  be  taken  • 
care  of.  The  next  day  he  rented  a  nice  house,  handsomely 
furnished.  He  then  took  his  niece,  with  her  three  children, 
to  a  clothing  establishment,  and  made  her  get  a  supply  of 
clothing  for  the  whole  family,  including  her  husband.  He 
then  conducted  her  to  the  house  he  had  rented,  and  told  her 
she  was  at  home.  '^  All  I  ask,"  said  he,  ^^is  that  you  will  let 
me  come  to  see  you  now  and  then." 

The  poor  lady  could  only  express  her  thanks  by  a  flood  of 
tears.  She  threw  herself  at  her  uncle's  feet,  but  he  raised 
her  up,  and  putting  in  her  hands  a  purse  of  gold,  left  the 
house.  He  hastened  to  the  hospital,  where  he  found  Mr. 
Bland  almost  well.  The  doctor  said  that  Mr.  Cornish's  visit 
the  night  before,  had  cured  him.  That  very  day,  they  carried 
him  home  in  a  sedan  chair,  and  under  his  wife's  nursing  he 
was  soon  entirely  restored. 

Mr.  Cornish  remained  a  steady  friend  to  the  family  of  his 
niece.  He  obtained  a  good  situation  for  Mr.  Bland,  and 
never  wearied  of  his  kindness  to  Mrs.  Bland  and  the  chil- 
dren. He  went  to  see  his  other  nieces  sometimes,  but  he 
never  could  think  so  well  of  them  again,  after  he  found  how 
they  had  treated  their  younger  lister. 


The  Blind  Boy  and  His  Sister. 

"  Dear  Mary,"  said  the  poor  blind  boy, 

"  That  little  bird  sings  very  long. 
Say,  do  you  see  him  in  his  joy? 
■  And  is  he  pretty  as  kis  »ong? 


THE  CONFBDERATE  FIRST  READER.  117 

*^  Yes,  Edward,  yes/'  replied  the  maid, 

^•^I  see  the  bird  on  yonder  tree." 
The  poor  boy  sighed,  and  gently  said, 

^'  Sister,  I  wish  that  /  could  see  !" 

^'  The  flowers,  you  say,  are  very  fair ; 

And  bright  green  leaves  are  on  the  trees ; 
And  pretty  birds  are  singing  there ; 

How  beautiful  for  ouc  who  sees ! 

"Yet  I  the  fragrant  flowers  can  sjjicll ; 

And  I  can  feel  the  green  leaf's  shade; 
And  I  can  hear  the  notes  that  swell. 

From  those  dear  birds  that  God  has  made. 

"  So,  sister,  God  to  me  is  kind. 

Though  sight,  alas  !  he  has  not  given. 

But  tell  me,  are  there  any  blind 
Among  the  children  up  in  heaven  ?" 

'^  No,  dearest  Edward,  there  all  see  ; 

But  why  ask  me  a  thing  so  odd  ?" 
"  Oh  !  Mary,  he's  so  good  to  me, 

1  thought  I'd  like  to  look  at  God." 

'^re  long  disease  its  hand  had  laid 

On  that  dear  boy,  so  meek  and  mild. 
His  widowed  mother  wept  and  prayed. 
That  God  would  spare  her  sightless  child. 

He  felt  her  tears  fall  on  his  face, 

And  said,  "  Oh,  never  weep  for  me ; 

I'm  going  to  a  bright,  bright  place, 
Where  Mary  says  I  God  shall  see. 

"'ii?  '^And  you'll  be  there,  dear  Mary,  too; 

But,  mother,  when  you  come  up  there, 
Tell  Edward,  mother,  that  'tis  you; 
You  know  I  never  saw  you  here." 

He  spoke  no  more,  but  sweetly  smiled. 

Until  the  final  blow  was  given ; 
When  God  took  up  the  poor,  blind  child. 

And  opened  first  his  eyes  in  Heaven. 

7 


"llg  THE  CONFEDEBATl  FIRST  READEE, 

Ohristian  and  Hopeful  conducted  into  Heaven  by  the  Angels. 

Now,  upon  the  Ibank  of  the  river,  on  the  other  side,  Chrif^- 
tian  and  Hopeful  saw  two  shining  men  who  there  waited  for 
them ;  wherefore,  heing  come  up  out  of  the  river,  they  sahited 
them,  saying,  "  We  are  ministering  spirits,  sent  forth  to  min- 
ister for  those  that  shall  he  heirs  of  salvation."  Thus  they 
went  along  towards  the  gate. 

While  they  were  thus  drawing  towards  the  gate,  hehold  a 
company  of  the  heavenly  host  came  out  to  meet  them  ;  to 
whom  it  was  said  by  the  other  two  shining  ones,  ^'  These  are 
the  men  that  loved  our  Lord  when  they  were  in  the  world, 
and  that  left  all  for  His  holy  name ;  and  He  hath  sent  us  to 
fetch  them,  and  we  have  brought  them  thus  far  on  their  de- 
sired journey,  that  they  may  go  in  and  look  their  Redeemer 
in  the  face  with  joy.^'  Then  the  heavenly  host  gave  a  great 
shout,  saying,  ^^  Blessed  are  they  that  are  called  to  the  mar- 
riage supper  of  the  Lamb." 

There  came  out  also  at  this  time,  to  meet  them,  several  of 
the  king's  trumpeters,  clothed  in  white  and  shining  raiment, 
who,  with  loud  and  melodious  noises,  made  even  the  heavens 
to  echo  with  their  sound.  These  trumpeters  saluted  Christian 
and  his  fellow,  with  ten  thousand  welcomes,  from  the  world ; 
and  this  they  did  with  shouting  and  sound  of  trumpet. 

This  done,  they  compassed  them  round  on  every  side.  Some 
went  before,  some  behind,  some  on  the  right  hand,  and  some 
on  the  left,  as  if  to  guard  them  through  the  upper  regions, 
continually  sounding  as  they  went,  with  melodious  noise,  in 
notes  on  high ;  so  that  the  very  sight  was,  to  them  that  could 
behold  it,  as  if  heaven  itself  were  come  down  to  meet  them. 

Thus,  therefore,  they  walked  on  together;  and  as  they 
walked,  ever  and  anon  these  trumpeters,  even  with  joyful 
sound,  would,  by  mixing  their  music  with  looks  and  gestures, 
still  signify  to  Ohristian  and  his  brother,  how  welcome  they 
were  into  their  company,  and  with  what  gladness  they  came 
to  meet  them.  And  now  were  these  two  men,  as  it  were,  in 
heaven  before  they  came  at  it,  being  swallowed  up  with  the 
sight  of  angels,  and  with  hearing  their  melodious  notes. 

Here  also  they  had  the  city  itself  in  view;  and  they  thought 
they  heard  all  the  bells  therein  to  ring,  to  welcome  them 
thereto ;  but,  above  all,  the  warm  and  joyful  thoughts  that 
they  had  about  their  own  dwelling  there,  with  such  company, 


THE  CONFEDERATE  FIRST  READER.  119 

and  that  for  ever  and  ever.  Oh !  by  what  tongue  or  pen  can 
their  glorious  joy  be  expressed  !  And  thus  they  came  up  to 
the  gate. 

Now,  when  they  wore  come  up  to  the  gate,  there  was  writ- 
ten over  it^  in  letters  of  gold,  ^^  Blessed  are  they  that  do  His 
commandments,  that  they  may  have  right  to  the  tree  of  life, 
and  may  enter  in  through  the  gates,  into  the  city." 

Then  T  saw  in  my  dream,- that  the  shining  men  bid  them 
call  at  the  gate,  which,  when  they  did,  some  from  above  looked 
over  the  gate :  to  wit,  Enoch,  Moses  and  Elijah,  and  others, 
to  whom  it  was  said,  *' These  pilgrims  are  come  from  the  city 
of  Destruction,  for  the  love  that  they  bear  to  the  King  of  this 
place." 

And  then  the  pilgrims  gave  in  unto  them  each  man  his 
certificate,  which  they  had  received  in  the  beginning.  Those, 
therefore,  were  carried  in  to  the  King,  who,  when  he  had 
read  them,  said,  ^' Where  are  the  men?"  To  whom  it  was 
answered,  "They  are  standing  without  at  the  gate."  The 
King  then  commanded  to  open  the  gate,  "that  the  righteous 
nation  that  keepeth  truth,  may  enter  in." 

Now,  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  two  men  went  in  at 
the  gate  ;  and,  lo  !  as  they  entered,  they  were  transfigured ; 
and  they  had  raiment  put  on  that  shone  like  gold.  There 
were  ariso  those  who  met  them  with  harps  and  crowns,  and 
gave  them  to  them;  the  harps  to  praise  withal,  and  the  crowns 
in  token  of  honor. 

Then  I  heard  in  my  dream,  that  all  the  bells  in  the  city 
rang  for  joy;  and  that  it  was  said  unto  them,  "Enter  ye  into 
the  joy  of  your  Lord."  I  also  heard  the  men  themselves  sing, 
with  a  loud  voice,  "  Blessing,  honor,  glory,  and  power,  be  to 
Him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb  for  ev«r 
and  ever." 

Now,  just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the  men,  I 
looked  in  after  them  ;  and,  behold,  the  city  shone  like  the 
sun.  Its  streets  also  were  paved  with  gold,  and  in  them 
walked  many  men  with  crowns  on  their  heads,  palms  in  their 
hands,  and  golden  harps  to  sing  praises  withal.  There  were 
also  some  that  had  wings;  and  they  answered  one  another 
without  intermission,  saying,  "Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord." 
And  after  that,  they  shut  up  the  gates,  which,  when  I  had 
seen,  I  wished  myself  among  them. 


120  THE  CONFEI^lRATl  FIRST  READER. 

The  Dging  Christian  to  his  Soul. 

Vital  spark  of  heavenly  flame  ! 
Quit,  0,  quit,  this  mortal  frame ! 
Trembling,  hoping,  lingering,  flying, 
0,  the  pain,  the  bliss,  of  dying ! 
Cease,  fond  Nature,  cease  thy  strife^ 
And  let  me  languish  into  life  1 

Hark  !  they  whisper;  angels  say, 
Sister  Spirit,  come  away ! 
What  is  this  absorbs  me  quite — 
Steals  my  senses,  shuts  my  sight. 
Drowns  my  spirit,  draws  my  breath  ?— 
Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  j^e  Deatli  ? 

The  world  recedes, — it  disappears  ! 
Heaven  opens  on  my  e3^es  !  my  ears 

With  sounds  seraphic  ring  ! 
Lend,  lend  your  wings!  I  mount!  I  fly! 
O  Grave !  where  is  tliy  victory  ? 

0  Death  !  where  is  thy  sting  ? 


^T p^^^^,,,j^^^|jgg^jj|gjjgj,jjjjaiaay,jg|,,^,iyi|,aij^^ 


T^TTBLin  A  TIOIN^S 


c^o;.0E  h.  i-iisoob; 


THE  CONFEDERATE  SPELLER.     Fourth  edition. 
The  bcjt  Sr.l]-r  i-  tant. 

...  .  JONFFDERa TK  FRBaER.     Fourth  oditi 

THE  CONFEDERATE  RHYMING  PRIMER. 

ILLUSTRATED  PRIMER.     BeautifuHj  cokrcd. 

THE  CONFEDERATE  READER.     Part  L 

SMITH'S  ENGLISH  GRAMMAR. 


IN  V  •   .\     Iv  1.  A  x.    X  , 

THE    ARMY    SONGSTER. 

Dedicuied  lo  ihe  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 

The  best  collection  of  Songs  published  in  the  South. 


GKOROE  L.  BIDGOOD, 

PUBLISHER  AND  BOOKSELLER, 

PvICHMON  ^ 


